Need
by AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: Sweeney Todd and Nellie Lovett need each other, both in their own way. They had never thought there could be more than that.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett._

* * *

**Need **

Chapter 1

Mrs. Lovett didn't sleep at night. She never did.

In the past her energy was limitless: she had been a young woman who was too restless for her own good. Instead of tossing and turning for hours, she just decided to stop sleeping all night. When everyone was resting, she was awake: cleaning the house and shop, reading some books, or even baking pies. Every few hours she dozed off a bit, and because she knew she needed at least some sleep, she lay down on a couch and slept for a short while. When she opened her eyes again she would continue whatever she had been doing. Her late husband had complained about this; especially just after their wedding he wanted his wife in his bed. Just to prove how wrong that desire was, she stayed in his bed for one entire night. She had exaggerated her restlessness a little, but at least she was sure that Albert never would ask her again to stay with him at night. The fact he could have his way with her wasn't worth the fact that he couldn't sleep the rest of the night because of his restless wife.

Mrs. Lovett wasn't young anymore. Her husband was deceased years ago. The once endless energy was gone. She needed to sleep, yet she was up most of the night. No little jobs in her house or reading novels to spend her time, but work. Disgusting and demanding work. She transformed corpses into pies. Not the most usual thing to do, and certainly not the most enjoyable. But she did it, every night. Not for her own pleasure, of course not, and not for the money. For no matter how revolting the baking process was, the result was rather... nice. Her customers were very aware of the latter.

Mr. Todd, the demon barber who killed his customers because of his never ending search for vengeance, was the reason for all her efforts. When the useful parts of the bodies were gone (unfortunately, bones couldn't be served), she cleaned his shop and washed the sheets that were supposed to protect his customer's clothes against shaving cream. It was quite a pity they were white: the blood had to be removed very carefully in order not to raise any suspicion. She had often asked the barber why he bothered to use those sheets and shaving cream anyway, but he had never given an answer. It was probably one of his mysterious routines, maybe a way to have at least one connection with the old days, when his wife and daughter were still his.

Everytime when she removed the sheets from the dead bodies, they seemed to be even bloodier than the last time. When she asked him if it could be done a little more civilized, so there would be less blood, if only a little, he just shrugged. It should angry her – he just let her work without ever saying 'thank you' – but it didn't. He had every right to be so absentminded, impossible and aggressive, she told herself.

But when the weeks would turn into months, the last memories of Lucy and Johanna would fade, and then the moment she was looking forward to for so long would come: Mr. Todd would see the woman who had taken care of him all this time, the baker who risked so much by participating in his crimes. Yes, Mrs. Lovett was sure of it: one day Sweeney Todd would realize she had helped him all this time, and the reason for this. One day he would see she was in love with him, and he would love her back. They would live together, by the sea, they would marry and when the night was almost over, they would finally sleep. O yes, she was sure of it.

This was what she thought about during those horrible midnight hours in which she was confronted with death so much. She daydreamed to keep it bearable: the dead bodies weren't corpses, but silhouettes of guests at their wedding, other people on the beach, friends who came for tea.

The only part of the work she didn't loathe, was the last hour, when she cleaned Sweeney Todd's blooded clothes. She was used to the red strains on them; what she was aware of was the fact the clothes had been worn by him – only for a short while, depending on how much time there was between two killings, but he _had_ worn them. His smell lingered on the fabric, and often she would bury her face in the clothes and inhale his scent, before she washed it and returned it to him the following morning.

It was going like this since he had killed Adolfo Pirelli. She couldn't recall how long ago that was. Most of the time it seemed like one never ending day, which only slowed down those few moments she could rest for a few hours.

She needed to sleep, but she just didn't had the time if she wanted to help Sweeney Todd. After all, the work had to be done in secret, in the middle of the night, when only few people noticed the unnatural smoke that came from her chimney and the red water that ran from the drain.

Her back was aching and every day she was even more exhausted than on the previous one, but she managed to continue by thinking it all would be over soon, and life would become much, much more enjoyable. And before that moment would come, she just needed to wait until the last memories of Lucy would fade from Sweeney Todd's mind.

Luckily she had Toby, who practically tended all the customers by himself, while she baked more pies or cleaned his shop hastily after another victim had found his end in the barber chair.

She wasn't doing well, not at all. She knew it, but she didn't care. She told herself it was normal that her back hurt so much, and that she didn't need to sleep. She hadn't need to in the past, so shy would she now? What she needed was the love from the barber. Or at least, his attention, or even his presence. She longed for him, every minute, and in those few hours she finally slept, she dreamed about her Mr. T.

The day he would shyly declare his love for her and the killings would stop, could better come soon. She needed sleep, she needed rest, and most of all, she needed _him_.

That day would probably be the most wonderful of her life, she mused while she neatly folded the sheets, imagining how they were her bedding after…

She yawned so wide that her jaw seemed to get dislocated. She blinked a few times and forced herself to stay awake until she had finished the work.

Yes, Sweeney Todd could better hurry. She couldn't stand living like this much longer.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sweeney Todd didn't sleep. He never did.

In the old days he never seemed to be tired, nor did he need to rest. When he caressed Lucy's yellow hair tenderly or watched his little Johanna sleep in the cradle next to their bed, he was filled with so much love, that all he wanted was to continue looking at them, to be sure he was awake and all this happiness wasn't a dream after all. He would doze off every once and a while, and he would dream about Lucy and Johanna, but he always woke up again quickly, because his dreams simply couldn't' be as good as reality.

But that was over now. From that wonderful time was left nothing but a vague memory. They were gone, they weren't a part of his life anymore. The only thing he could do, was take revenge upon the ones responsible for their horrible fates.

During his quest for vengeance he found out that everyone was guilty somehow. Everybody saw how much pain was inflicted upon others, but no one ever _did _something about it. Two kind of man indeed: those who deserved to die and those for who death would be relief. Death would be a relief for him too, but not before he had killed the Judge; the person whom it was all about after all.

But no matter how much people he murdered, the Judge wasn't among them. And before he was gone, Sweeney Todd couldn't rest. He paced through his barber shop all night long, trying to think of a way to kill Judge Turpin, and if the lack of possibilities frustrated him too much, he tried to remember what Lucy smelled like, or what Johanna's first words had been. He was too absorbed in his bloodthirsty thoughts to notice he couldn't really remember. He didn't really care anymore. When the Judge, and the Beadle too, were death, it would be done. Until that moment they all deserved to die.

It was a good thing that Mrs. Lovett helped him to 'hide' the bodies and that she cleaned everything afterwards. Why she did it he didn't know, but he wasn't a man to worry about that kind of irrelevant things. She did the work he couldn't do, and in his opinion the reason for it wasn't important.

Her singing while she worked, and the sound of the knife that cut the bodies, matched his steps when he paced through the room. Every night again. It was calming, in a strange way: it told him he wasn't completely alone is this great dark pit.

In an empty moment in which Lucy and Johanna didn't occupy his thoughts, he noticed something unique.

It was quiet downstairs. Too quiet. Apparently there wasn't any activity in the pie shop or in the bake house – that wasn't supposed to be. It angered and disappointed him that she wasn't working: she must have at least any idea how important it was those people were killed and their bodies disappeared, so he could continue his quest for justice.

He left the room and descended the stairs; he had to visit Mrs. Lovett's shop and basement to make sure she would continue the work; all his clothes were red-stained except for the one he was wearing now, and that one would need to be washed soon too.

Mrs. Lovett wasn't in her shop, but he hadn't really expected her to be there, so he headed towardthe basement immediately. To his surprise she wasn't there too. He checked all the corners of the bake house, but except for a pile of bodies, a lot of red-stained shirts and the items that did belong in the basement, nothing was there.

The only other place where she could be, was her bed room.

He returned to the pie shop and approached from there the closed bed room door, moving slowly so he wouldn't wake Toby.

He hesitated briefly before he knocked on the door.

"Mrs. Lovett," he whispered. "Are you there?"

She didn't answer. Either she was gone, or she was in such a state she couldn't answer: both meant a serious problem for his plans of vengeance.

He opened the door, and entered her dimly lit room.

She was lying on her bed, apparently sleeping.

"Mrs. Lovett! " he snarled. "What's this? The work isn't done yet!"

She still didn't reply, and just remained lying there. His annoyance and anger was replaced with worry. Maybe there was a good reason she wasn't in the bake house. Now he thought about it, the woman wouldn't neglect her duties, she simply wasn't the type to do so.

"Mrs. Lovett," he repeated, speaking a little louder, while he approached her bed.

When she still didn't react, he grasped her shoulders and shook her lightly.

"Mrs. Lovett!"

Finally she opened her eyes, blinking because of the light that the few candles on her nightstand produced.

"Mr. T!" she gasped. "What are you ding here?!"

"Why aren't you working?" he asked her in return, without bothering to answer her question.

She gasped in shock.

"What is the time? I'm so sorry, I just needed to lay down for a while, I didn't feel well and I was so tired… but I fell asleep, and I…"

She tried to get up, but she fell down in the bed again.

"Just lay down, Mrs. Lovett."

He shook up her pillow and helped her to lay down again. She was very pale and he spotted dark circles around her eyes. Sorrow and annoyance welled in him simultaneously: part of him wanted to drag her out of the bed and force her to do the work, and part of him slightly pitied her when he recognized the symptoms of overtiredness. Although he tried to ignore it, he suffered from it too.

She just lay there, not even blinking her eyes. She always talked too much and had too much energy, but this didn't feel right either. It was clear something was wrong with her. If she was this quiet, it might be worse than just tiredness.

He didn't like that idea. Because she had to bake the pies, wash the clothes and sheets, and clean his shop, of course, but… He didn't want to admit it, but he couldn't forgive himself if he would just leave her like this; not after all what she had done for him.

He realized he had to look after her to make sure she would recover as soon as possible. The thing was, that he hadn't looked after someone for fifteen years, and he wasn't sure if he would still be able of this. He looked around, wondering what he could do to help her.

"Is there something you need, Mrs. Lovett?"

"Yes," she said weakly, not even opening her eyes. "Mr. Todd… will you stay with me tonight?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The moment Mrs. Lovett asked Sweeney Todd to stay with her, she regretted it already: no matter how much she longed for him, she was aware of the fact he still cared for Lucy too much to even really notice her, and her request would probably only anger him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Todd. That was a wrong thing to say."

"It doesn't matter," he replied, to her immense surprise. "If you're feeling so unwell, I can imagine you don't want to be alone. So often I wished that I had been there when Lucy needed me, when she…"

After this sudden moment of spontaneity was his own silent self again, and looked at her in a strange way, almost accusingly.

He sat down in a chair next to her bed. She wasn't sure she was ill or just very tired, but his presence was strangely reassuring.

"Mr. T.?" she asked weakly. "Are you never tired? You never sleep, you're always pacing around, brooding, staring out the window, or whatever you do… do you never just want to sleep?"

"You need to rest. Blood-stained clothes and hungry customers are waiting," was all he said.

Inwardly she sighed deeply. Of course, that's why he was there, to make sure she could work again soon, not for personal reasons. But well, he _was_ here to look after her, that was quite a lot: maybe this was his way to show he appreciated all what she did for him.

"Just try to sleep," he said again, when she didn't close her eyes. "I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning."

"But Mr. T, the morning? And what about the pies and all the blood?"

"It's better you recover before tomorrow, so Toby can keep your shop going while you clean."

She _knew_ he would say something like this. But well, at least she would have some rest; she wasn't sure she would actually _sleep_ when Sweeney was around. She eyed the man, who was sitting so close to her bed. He was staring again, like he did most of the day; he probably had forgotten already where he was and why.

"What are you thinking of?" she asked, hoping she could make him aware of her presence.

"The Judge," he said, tormented. "He _has_ to come. This waiting drives me…"

"You know what I said," she interrupted him. "He will come, you just have to be patient and prepare everything perfectly."

"The chair works and my friends can't be sharper," he grunted bitterly. "All I'm waiting for, is_ him_."

"I know that, but I'm talking about _you_. You need to rest too, love. You don't want to be sleeping when the Judge finally comes here."

"But…"

"You can be sure of one thing, and that is that he won't come tonight. So just remain sitting in that chair and try not to think of the past and vengeance. You can't relax with those thoughts in your head."

He looked at her grumpily, but didn't leave or make a sarcastic remark.

"If that it takes to shut you up, so you'll sleep, _fine._"

She didn't know whether she should like this answer or not, so she just turned around and finally closed her eyes, hoping she would sleep soon so she wouldn't have to feel anymore the emotional pain he caused.

But no matter how tired she was, she didn't fall asleep: probably it had something to do with Mr. Todd's presence. He breathed steadily, but so softly; it was hardly audible, and she wondered if he was still there and hadn't sneaked out of her bedroom.

She listened intensely, and after a while she could hear his breath. She tried to match his rhythm, but he breathed so slow that it was almost impossible for her to do so. She didn't inhale enough oxygen, and after a while she had to gasp for air frantically.

Although she breathed too fast now, she couldn't stop it, otherwise she might faint because of the lack of oxygen.

"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.

"Yes, of course," she managed to say, pretending nothing was wrong with her.

"No, you're not. You can hardly breath, you silly woman."

"I'm alright," she said. "I'm fine."

"Maybe you don't care about your health, but I do."

"Well, that would be the first time."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" he asked sharply.

"Oh, nothing," she lied, while she cursed herself for speaking her thoughts aloud.

"Well, I can't think of any other baker who is willing to do all the work you do," he replied.

"That is a thought that makes me feel _good_," she dared to say, but he didn't notice the sarcasm in her voice, although it was there obviously.

She turned her back to him and tried to sleep again. Her breath was still unsteady, thanks to the anger about Sweeney Todd's behaviour, and the fact he only seemed to care for her because she was his partner in crime – and that the possibility she would once be more than that, was about zero percent.

Despite the irregular breath her body finally surrendered to the tiredness.

However, after half an hour she was suddenly woken again by two hands, who were untying with the laces of her dress.

"Mr. Todd! Are you totally insane?!"

"Hush, stubborn woman. You hardly breath anymore, and it gets only worse because of that corset you are wearing. And what would I do without you?"

"Nothing," she said forcefully, while she turned around and slapped his hands away. "I'm perfectly able of brea…"

Her speech faltered because of a wave of dizziness.

"See? That corset is too tight. Just let me loosen those ties, so you can breathe at last."

"If you really must, it would be a pity if you lost your _useful_ baker, wouldn't it?" she said, almost collapsing on her bed after she had done so.

He only shrugged before he continued untying the laces of her dress and corset. She buried her face in the pillow while he did so, to hide her sadness. All those years, and he had still no idea what she felt for him. She forced herself not to react when his fingers brushed her skin accidentally when he loosened the strings. Even with her face hid in the pillow, she could breath a lot easier now. But she didn't feel any better, thanks to Sweeney's cold behaviour towards her.

He sat down in the chair again, and she could feel he was watching her. But she didn't care. Or at least, she tried.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sweeney Todd didn't sleep. Never. Especially not now he wasn't only brooding over Lucy and Johanna and revenge like usual, but he had to think of an alternative plan as well, just in case Mrs. Lovett would be unable somehow to bake and serve pies and clean clothes in the near future. Toby could tend the store, and the boy might be able to wash his clothes if he'd found a reasonable excuse for the blood – though the clothes would never be as white as when Mrs. Lovett would wash them. But baking the pies – no. Either Mrs. Lovett or he had to do that, no one else. And since he couldn't, Mrs. Lovett had to, and thus he had to make sure she would be able to do so.

She was breathing with ease now that damn corset wasn't so tight anymore. He wondered what was wrong with that woman anyway, to wear that thing in such a way she could hardly move. Lucy had never wore a corset like that, and she certainly wouldn't have even considered to expose so much of her bosom like Mrs. Lovett did. If Lucy would've done so, he would have asked her immediately to wear something different: she wasn't a prostitute, after all. As far as he knew his landlady was neither, but now he thought about out it, he could never be sure. God only knew what that poor woman had to do in order to survive when she was a woman alone and no one ever bought her pies. But even if she had, why still wear those clothes now? Like she still had to seduce her 'customers'… like she needed attention, or something like that?

He shrugged; it didn't matter what that foolish woman did, as long as she baked those pies, cleaned, and kept her mouth shut.

He paced through the room , silently, so he wouldn't wake her. She hadn't told him what exactly was wrong with her, only that she was very tired, but the way she lay curled up in the bed, made it seem there was something wrong with her body too. He just hoped she wasn't really ill; he could never continue his quest for vengeance if she wouldn't take care of so many tings.

At least she was asleep now, and he would personally make sure she slept as long as she needed, so she could go back to work the moment she was recovered.

He sat down in the chair again and watched how she breathed in and out, in and out. It had a calming effect on him; she was the only thing in his life which resembled Lucy at least in some minor ways.

Slowly his body relaxed slightly, and he enjoyed the quietness and peacefulness of the room for a while. Instead of grieving and worrying like usual, he allowed himself to think of Mrs. Lovett and the cryptic remark she had made. _Useful baker._ O yes, of course, she was useful to him, but it was not that she didn't get anything back for it. She made quite some money now; even if she would stop selling pies at this moment, she would have enough to live in a rather comfortable way for the rest of her life. So what was it that she needed? Companionship? No, she had Toby, who was like a son to her. Did she missed her husband? He couldn't really imagine. At least, he was certain she didn't _really _miss him, not in the way he missed Lucy. But what could it be then?

Suddenly he remembered how the Beadle had looked at her when they were at the market place. There had been something in his eyes that was even more repulsive than usual. Could it be that the man, who had helped the Judge to get Lucy, was planning to do such a terrible thing again, only difference that he didn't commit this evil to serve his master, but himself?

Sweeney stared at the woman who was lying there, so innocently and vulnerable, so _alone_. He snarled while thinking of that terrible Beadle. He would make sure that man would never harm Mrs. Lovett. How heavily upset the woman would be if the Beadle would have his way with her, and God only knew how she would react if that happened… he thought of his poor Lucy, who had died not long after her encounter with the Judge.

No, he couldn't allow that to happen. He needed her. And besides, he realized for the first time, she simply didn't deserve it. Her life had been hard, and she shouldn't have to face any more pain and sorrow. He could make that sure, just by keeping his eyes and ears open, and stay around, so he could be there in case something would happen to her. And so, with her help, the Judge would eventually be killed, and after him the Beadle. And once that was over, she was free from the pervert interests of the Beadle, and she didn't need his protection and attention from him anymore.

Yes, that was what he would do: making sure Mrs. Lovett was alright until the ones who deserved to die most of all, were finally dead. He would protect her like he should have protected his wife, so he could eventually kill those responsible for the fate of the woman he couldn't save fifteen years ago.

And what he would do then? He didn't know, and he didn't really want to think about it. The moment the Judge and the Beadle were dead, the last things that really reminded him of Lucy would be gone forever. All what would remain were the fading memories of the days he had been happy. And if those were gone, what should he do then? Maybe he should ask Mrs. Lovett. She had been alone, since her husband had died, many years ago, and she seemed to be perfectly able of handling herself.

He looked at her sleeping form on the bed, and he decided not to. He didn't want to provoke an actual conversation between them. She was fussing over him too much already, just imagine if she'd want to talk with him about Lucy or her deceased husband as well.

In a sudden moment of tenderness he pulled the blanket a little higher, so her back wouldn't be exposed to the coldness of the room. After that, he sat down in the chair again, watching over her. His Lucy was dead, his Johanna's fate was unknown; there was only one woman left in his life, and although she wasn't special like Lucy and Johanna were, he would look after her; just to make sure she wouldn't be another victim of the Judge or his companion.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The first thing Mrs. Lovett noticed the next morning was Sweeney Todd had entered her bedroom. It took her a few seconds to realize why he was there.

"I feel much better today, Mr. T," she said, feigning cheerfulness – she didn't feel much better at all. She wasn't tired anymore, but her back ached terribly.

He was only there to hear her say that she was alright, and most important, that she would continue her work. She didn't want him to say this aloud, for it would only confirm her suspicion that he was only there for business; so that's why she answered before he had even asked her something.

He nodded slightly and it was clear the 'conversation' was over, but he didn't leave the room immediately. His gaze lingered on her a few seconds before he walked out of her bedroom.

When he had closed the door and she was sure he couldn't hear her anymore, she sighed deeply. Even in her bedroom he managed to act as coldly and uninterested as he always did. She walked towards the small mirror in her room and watched herself critically. She didn't look like Lucy at all, it couldn't be denied. But her reddish hair and big brown eyes were rather charming, too, weren't they?

She held her breath while she tied the laces from her corset with difficulty even more tightly than they had been before. There had to be a way to get Sweeney Todd's attention. Even _he_ couldn't miss her figure if she dressed like this; even _he _had to understand this rather unsubtle hint. He was a man, after all.

She cursed him for having untied all those laces the night before; now that she was used to have enough oxygen in her lungs, it was even harder to wear that damned corset again properly.

When it was finally the way she wanted it to be, she made an attempt to comb her hair, but the wild curls didn't want to be tamed. She shrugged, knowing her hair would never be as neat as Lucy's.

Mrs. Lovett woke Toby and prepared breakfast for them and Mr. Todd. She tried to ignore the pain in her back and the nagging thought that there weren't enough pies ready, and the fact that she hadn't cleaned Sweeney's shirts yet. Luckily he still had some clean ones if she wasn't mistaken, but those pies were a problem.

She ordered Toby to bring a tray with food to Mr. Todd, and then she went back to the bakehouse so she could continue her work. It was only seven o'clock, so if she hurried, she could get rid of two more corpses before the next victim would 'arrive'.

She chopped the meat, grinded it and kneaded the dough until she would have enough pies to fill her oven completely. After that, there was one more corpse, but she was exhausted. Her back seemed to be unable to moveand she had to gasp for air wildly to prevent herself from fainting. However, she refused to loosen the strings from her corset even just a little bit. If she needed to suffer to appear in a way that Sweeny would look at her, then suffer she would. Stubbornly, she began to extract the meat from another dead body, keeping her mind occupied by dreaming about a life by the sea with the barber.

Despite her condition, she managed to finish the pies before Toby had sold all the pastries that had remained from the previous day. It was a good thing he helped her so much; she would never be able to handle the sudden success of her shop if he hadn't been there to assist her.

Because it wasn't too busy yet, the boy could tend to all the customers by himself, and she could rest for a while. She retreated to her small living room and picked up one of the few books she owned, hoping the story would distract her from reality for a moment.

She was completely absorbed in the tale, but then Toby called her: it was getting crowded in the shop and the ordered pies couldn't be served by one person anymore.

Despite the break, she still felt as awful as before, and carrying the trays with all the pies and ale on them couldn't be good; but it just needed to be done.

The day seemed to be endless; the customers kept asking for more food and fresh pies kept needing to be baked. And the pile of bodies on the basement floor grew quickly during the daytime: the demon barber obviously had a good day.

Because of this, it surprised her even more that he descended the stairs at least once an hour to peek into the store. When he did so, his eyes weren't focused on the eating crowd, looking for potential victims like they used to do, but on _her_. He would stare at her for several seconds, a worried expression on his face, before he returned to his own shop without saying one word to her, or even looking her directly in the eye.

Mrs. Lovett had no idea if this was a good thing or not. He was watching her; he had finally noticed her. That was something at least: but that nagging voice in her head kept telling her he was only there to make sure she worked hard enough and got rid of the evidence of his murders by selling the pies to hungry and unsuspecting customers.

Toby offered to help her bake the pies because she had so much trouble grinding the meat. But of course she couldn't let him be in the bake house, no matter how much easier his help would things make. Luckily, there was one thing he could do: carry the trays with pies from the bakehouse to the shop, so she could get her legs some rest.

Finally, the last customer had paid his bill and left the shop. Mrs. Lovett was truly exhausted, but she didn't want to go to sleep yet. She would only dream about Mr. T. and the sea, and those fantasies would only make her feel worse the moment she woke up and realized they weren't real.

Instead, she sat down in her most comfortable chair, after she had given Toby some gin; and continued reading her book.

However, before she had finished one chapter, there was a knock on the door. Sooner than she could say 'come in', Sweeney Todd entered her living room and looked angrily at her.

"Mrs. Lovett, come with me. _Now._"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Sweeney Todd just couldn't believe it. It was clear that Mrs. Lovett was totally exhausted and needed every minute of sleep she could get before she had to bake pies for the next day, only a few hours later. And yet, here she was, very awake, _reading_. Didn't she see how silly that was? It almost seemed like she didn't _want_ to be healthy, like she didn't _want_ to help him.

"Mr. T! What are you doing here!"

And she even dared to ask why he was here!

"Go to bed, now!" he snarled, not believing that the woman could actually behave this foolishly.

"But Mr. T! What's this nonsense? Invading my living room like this, commanding me like you are my husb…"

She clasped a hand for her mouth in shock, and reddened. The barber had no idea why: probably another one of her silly, feminine thoughts. 

"You need rest; you're killing yourself like this."

"Well, hear who is talking!. At least I sit down and try to relax a little; you pace through your room all night, thus preventing _me_ from sleeping when I finally have the chance."

"I'm not pacing now."

"But you will when you are back in your barbershop."

"I won't pace if you can't sleep when I do," he said, firmly. "And I would've stopped pacing before if you would've told me it bothered you."

"Like you listen to me," she said, shrugging.

He had to admit she had a point. As long as she baked pies and took care of the laundry, he ignored her. But during the last days, she proved she needed a little guidance. She hadn't needed protection today; he had checked it every time he didn't have a customer to kill, but the Beadle hadn't come, nor any other man who looked at her in an improper way. Yet she looked unhappy, but he was sure that the reason for this was her tiredness. 

"Mrs. Lovett, you need to sleep. Don't deny it. I won't pace, and I'll wake you at the right time, just like this morning, so you don't have to worry about that."

"Alright," she sighed. "But tell me, what will you do?"

"Does it matter?" he replied, uninterested.

"You need to rest too."

"For what? To make sure my friend doesn't slip when the Judge comes for a 'shave'?"

"Well, you don't want to miss him because you have finally fallen asleep, do you?"

He only grunted; what did she know about it? The nightmares, the fear, the memories, every time he closed his eyes?

"I don't sleep," he said shortly. "You can. So _do_ so." 

He pulled her out of the chair and almost dragged her to the next room. It was a good thing the boy was asleep; who knew what he'd do if he saw that the barber treated his adoptive mother like this, or what would he think?

When they entered the bedroom, Mrs. Lovett pulled her arm loose from his iron grip, jumped into her bed and pulled the blankets over her head.

"Mrs. Lovett!" he said sternly. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Before she could react, he pulled the covers away and reached for the laces of her dress. 

"What do you think you're doing?" she shrieked.

He realized only then that his actions could be explained in a _very_ different way than what he actually was trying to do.

"I know you hardly have time to change clothes, but this is completely ridiculous. You'd die from the lack of air if you fell asleep. Now, if you don't want to untie those strings yourself, I'll do it."

"Yes, it would be a pity if I did fall asleep like this, wouldn't it? You'd miss your assistant, after all."

He just shrugged; he had thought about the exact same thing only hours ago, and he had decided she acted like this because she wanted him to protect her. But he was doing that now; he had made that rather clear by checking on the shop and her at least ten times this day. So, to return the favor, she could at least sleep properly to be able to handle all the work she needed to do.

He untied the laces of the corset and the dress, avoiding touching her skin; for every time he did so, she shivered. From the cold of his hands, he presumed. 

It took a long time to loosen all the strings, and before he pulled the blanket over her, she was asleep.

He watched her for few moments, hoping to see the tension disappear from her face while she slept, but it didn't. Well, nothing he could do about that. 

He left the room, and only when he was halfway up the stairs did he remembered that he couldn't pace anymore, because he would wake her if he did so. He turned around, wondering what he should do then, in those few hours Mrs. Lovett slept. 

He could go out for a walk, but that would only depress him more. 

If he saw all those places again, where he once had spent time with Lucy, he would be tormented by those happy memories. He hated himself for it, but he felt better in those few minute he didn't think of his wife. If she wasn't in his mind, it was just like the happiness had never been there; thus the pain and sadness were easier to accept. Like Lucy and Johanna had never existed, and he was just a poor and unmarried barber, who rented a room about Albert Lovett's shop. 

In those days he had hardly known Mrs. Lovett: every time they met, she mumbled a greeting and quickly disappeared somewhere in the shop. He had considered her a strange woman, shy maybe. He ignored her, because he didn't want to get in trouble with Albert Lovett, who was overly possessive of his young and rather charming wife. Mrs. Lovett was not as beautiful as Lucy, who the barber would meet a few months later, but… 

Sweeney stopped dead in his tracks when he realized he had just mentally described Mrs. Lovett as 'rather attractive'. It felt like he was betraying Lucy, thus making the situation even worse when he even looked at Mrs. Lovett. Not that he cared for her anyway, but she was a woman after all. 

He looked up at the sky, hoping to see the moon or some stars, but the sky was invisible because of all the fog. No lights from the houses or the street reached him; no one looked at him or even noticed him. Even the memories from the old days left him alone. 

For the first time since his return to London, Sweeney Todd felt truly lonely. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Mrs. Lovett's dreams about the sun, the sea and (most of all) Sweeney Todd were abruptly interrupted when someone gently woke her. 

"What?" she asked sleepily. "Something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," the barber answered.

"What time is it?" 

"It's very late – or very early. Time to get back to work."

"Oh yes, the pies," she sighed. "And the shirts, and all the blood."

"How do you feel?" he asked; there was the slightest hint of worry in his voice.

"Good enough to work, I'm sure," she replied, while she cast a dark look at him, not believing after all this time that he sincerely cared for her. "Where have you been anyway? I didn't hear you pacing tonight."

"I've been here," he said, trying to avoid eye contact. "I sat next to you the last few hours."

They stared at each other for a few seconds, speechless, both not sure what this exactly meant.

"Well, I'll go to the bakehouse," she said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "You… you can stay here if you want. It'll take some time before the pies are ready, and I don't want you to be in that terribly cold room of yours at night. You can stay in the living room, Toby's sleeping anyway. Just try to relax, maybe you can sleep for a while. I'll make sure everything is all right and I'll bring the clothes to your room this morning."

She didn't know why she was suddenly so friendly to him and didn't mind to do all the work she had loathed only hours ago. Probably it was because of the fact that she had slept while he was watching over her. They hardly spent any time in the same room, and now he suddenly admitted that he had been sitting on a chair next to her bed for such a long time. 

She walked towards the mirror, pretending to tie the laces for her dress and corset, but in fact she wanted to avoid him temporarily; she wanted to figure out if the fact that he had been there the whole time meant anything, before she would think too much of it and she would be disappointed again. She began toying with the strings, wishing she wasn't so nervous because he was around. 

"Mrs. Lovett," he said. "Don't be silly. I don't know why you squeeze your body in that thing every time, and in fact I don't _want_ to know, but you just can't live like this. No one sees you now anyway. Well, no one who is still alive, except for me, and I'd rather see you healthy than having to gasp for air every time you move. Just don't wear that stupid corset tonight."

"And what do you suggest? What should I wear _then_?"she asked. It hurt that he called her dress 'silly', while it was in her opinion the last possibility to seduce him. But even if she danced naked through the shop, he probably wouldn't look at her. 

"So, any suggestions?" she asked again, just a little bit too aggressively when he didn't reply immediately. "Should I wear _nothing_, or…?"

He handed her one of his own shirts from the pile of laundry that she had accidentally placed in her bedroom. 

"Wear this, just for the nights. I'm sure you'll feel better and… What's wrong?"

"Nothing, love," she said while she took the shirt from him.

She feigned a smile, wondering why he always saw her as a thing that should be handled with care instead of a strong woman who could take care of almost anything. 

"Like I said before, you're killing yourself like this. I'll leave this room, and when I see you later in the living room, I want you to wear that shirt. Wear whatever you want beneath it, but not _that_ corset."

When he had left the room, she walked towards the mirror again and eyed her reflection critically. She didn't want to take off the corset; although it was too tight, she was used to the protection and comfort it offered. Mr. Todd didn't understand that. But well, he didn't want her to wear it, and basically he was right about it: he just didn't see it was all for him.

She put on the shirt, and only then untied the strings from her corset. Too late she realized she had to take off her dress too: she couldn't get rid of the corset if she was still wearing another layer of fabric. She cursed the stubborn barber silently, mostly because he was _right_: she didn't have the time or the energy for this mess. To save herself any more trouble, she just took off the shirt, her dress and the corset, and put on a skirt she randomly grabbed from her wardrobe. Then, she put on the man's shirt again, and stared in the mirror. 

At first, she felt awkward because she was wearing a man's clothes; but then she realized it wasn't _a_ man's shirt but Sweeney Todd's. Unfortunately, it didn't smell like him, but like soap. It just had been washed, but he _had_ worn it.

She turned in front of her mirror and scrutinized herself while she moved her arms around and stretched her body. She felt so strangely free; not only she could breathe normally again, but she was able to move like she wanted as well. Again Sweeney Todd had been right, but she enjoyed wearing his shirt for another reason: the loose fabric touched her skin teasingly as she moved, and the knowledge that the shirt belonged to the man she loved made wearing it incredibly sensual. 

An uncharacteristic blush reached her cheeks. She kept staring at herself in the mirror, wondering if the woman she saw really was the same as the one who had stood there only minutes ago. 

Suddenly, she felt more optimistic than she had for many months. Something told her that things could change, that everything would end well, that the things she had dreamed of for so long might come true one day. 

She pulled the pins out of her hair, just to be able to feel as free as possible, hoping the unexpected positive feeling would last longer. The dark curls framed her pale yet blushing face, making her look years younger. She even smiled, and while doing so, she felt again like the rather untamable and wild girl she once had been. 

She looked in the mirror again, not believing it was actually Mrs. Lovett who smiled back from the glass of the mirror. 

To her surprise, she saw a second body reflected in it.

"Mr. T!" she cried, shocked by his sudden presence. "I didn't hear you!"

But he didn't hear her either: he stared at her, drinking in the sight of the woman in front of him. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Sweeney was waiting in Mrs. Lovett's living room until she had changed her clothes and would come to the bake house. Lucy had taught him that woman usually took _a lot_ of time to dress, but this was really bizarre. After fifteen minutes he knocked on the door: silently enough not to wake Toby, hard enough for her to hear. She didn't react, so he opened the door and entered the room to wake her – she had probably fallen asleep again.

However, she was standing in front of the mirror, looking at herself. He wanted to walk towards her so he could tell her that it was ridiculous that she was still there. However, he followed her gaze and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her reflection.

He didn't know how and why it had happened, but it was clear that something in her had changed; not only her looks, but inside of her too.

Sweeney didn't really see her hair or her lips, nor did he really notice yet how his shirt fitted her perfectly. All he could think of was how _unlike Lucy _she was. In all these months back in London, he had never seen a female who was so unlike his tall and blonde wife, who always had been so lady-like and fragile.

"Mr. Todd? What's wrong?" Mrs. Lovett asked worriedly, and the moment was broken.

"Nothing," he said, while forcing himself to tear his gaze away from her.

Yet, their eyes met in the mirror, and there was something in the way she looked at him… he couldn't put his finger on it.

She blinked, thus hiding the strong emotions that had been visible in her eyes (whatever they were), and before he could say anything or identify the unfamiliar feeling that went through his own system, she walked out of her bedroom hastily, leaving him alone.

There was something in her that confused him. When she was around, especially when she stared at him like she just had, the darkness within him seemed to decrease, and the memories, even those long lost ones about Lucy, seemed to fade. Until she was gone, and he was alone again.

He walked toward the mirror and gazed at his own reflection. For the first time since a very long time, he looked at himself again. The man he saw in the mirror scared him. Where was the friendly and naive barber, the handsome man with the sparkling eyes? He was gone, just like his Lucy. The barber and his wife were no longer: all that remained was a demon, who killed simply because it was the only way to deal with all the anger inside him. The blood made him feel more at ease; at first, at least. When he had returned from Australia, he simply needed to express his hate: if he wouldn't, he'd probably go completely insane.

But the calming effect the blood had on him became less and less comforting. He hadn't thought it was possible, but it did happen, and slowly he started to realize that Mrs. Lovett had something to do with it. Without saying it in so many words, she made part of him realize that blood and depression weren't the answers, and that _his_ life wasn't over now that Lucy was gone. He should kill her for this, he should cut her throat, beat her at least, but he simply couldn't. Because he needed her if he wanted to continue his killings, hoping to find peace of mind that way. The thought of actually caring for Mrs. Lovett, not because of all what she did for him, but because of the woman herself…. He would never. However, that was what he _told_ himself.

He left he room, confused, and slammed the door. It was a wonder that Toby, who was sleeping on the couch, didn't wake up. Sweeney sat down on a chair, brooding, trying to figure out a better way to kill the Judge, wishing Mrs. Lovett would hurry cleaning those damned shirts, wanting to…

It was one big mess inside of his head, and he hated it. He wanted to think clearly, calculate his chances and options, but he couldn't, and again, he blamed Mrs. Lovett. He took his friend from the holster on his belt, but even staring at the beautiful and glistening silver didn't calm him.

He wanted to pace, that always calmed him down a bit, but if he did so, he was afraid he'd wake Toby. And if there was something he couldn't bear right now, it was that kid nagging about Mrs. Lovett, that she was such a wonderful woman and all.

He wanted to forget, just for a few hours. Sleep wouldn't bring him the oblivion he suddenly craved, only nightmares.

In the last fifteen years he never had wished to forget all that had happened. Forgetting would be almost the same as betraying Lucy, ignoring the fact they had been so happy together, that they had had a beautiful daughter. Johanna was gone for him too: even if Anthony managed to steal her and she'd be free, she'd never really be his daughter, simply because he hardly had had the chance to be her father. All because of Judge Turpin.

That despicable man was the other reason why he shouldn't forget. Forgetting would be like forgiving, and he could never forgive that man for destroying three lives the way he had. Sweeney wouldn't rest until that man was dead.

And until that moment, he needed to practice. Cutting throats must become the ultimate routine for him; he couldn't make one single mistake if, or when, (Sweeney was sure that he would trick the Judge sooner or later into his shop) the Judge would finally sit down in the barber chair.

But since it was in the middle of the night, it would at least take half a day more before the Judge might come for a shave. Even Mrs. Lovett wasn't around now. He stared at the door of the bakehouse, wanting her to clean his shop and give him some clean shirts, so he could at least prepare himself for another day of blood and death.

He had too many hours to kill before the first customers would arrive, too much to remember or consider, and he didn't want to, not anymore. That night, he really wanted to forget, maybe because he had experienced what a relief it could be to be in oblivion for a few moments, when he had looked at Mrs. Lovett.

And then he saw the answer. Next to the couch where Toby was sleeping was a bottle of gin that wasn't empty yet. Sweeney took the bottle and stared at the liquor. He had never liked gin, but the alcohol might ease the pain and perhaps he could forget about Mrs. Lovett and the strange and confusing feelings she caused deep within him.

He opened the bottle and took one gulp. The liquor burned its way down his throat, but it felt good. Another gulp, and one more, until he couldn't prevent himself from drinking as much as he could.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

For the first in weeks, the process of pie baking and cleaning wasn't as horrible as it used to be for Mrs. Lovett. The work was still as disgusting as always, but she almost enjoyed the baking itself like she once used to. Sweeney's shirt fitted her wonderfully; with every movement the fabric that had been so close to the barber brushed her skin; and her lungs were easily filled with air every time she inhaled.

And most of all, the thing that really made her happy, was the way Sweeney Todd had looked at her. It was impossible to say exactly _what_ she had seen in his eyes, but at least there had been something that wasn't hatred or sadness. No, in that short moment he looked almost hopeful, like the good man who he once had been wasn't gone entirely. So maybe, those daydreams of hers hadn't been complete fantasy after all.

She sang cheerfully while she continued the work that seemed to her even less repulsive than it usually was.

When the pies were in the oven, she cleaned Sweeney's shirts extra carefully, not worrying about the additional time this took. She didn't really feel the pain in her back anymore; it still was there, but her slight euphoria was stronger than all other things.

A few hours later, she placed all the pies she had baked that night on trays and brought them to the entrance of the bakehouse, where she put them on the large table that she and Toby had put there yesterday: from there the young boy could carry all those trays upstairs, like he had so nicely offered to do for her.

She returned once more to the basement and picked up the pile of laundry. She would bring the clothes upstairs herself; Toby would certainly not understand why she had to wash so many of Sweeney's shirts every day, and she didn't feel like lying to him too much.

Slowly she climbed the stairs, making sure she wouldn't trip now she couldn't see where she was heading because of all the laundry she was carrying.

Suddenly, just after she had taken the last step, there was something in her path that shouldn't be there, and especially wasn't supposed to grab her fist, causing her to drop all the clothes on the floor.

"Where have you been all this time?" Sweeney asked. His voice was unsteady, and she smelled alcohol in his breath. She could tell he had been drinking, and not only a little. In all those years she had known him, he had never been drunk. Never.

"I was just baking pies, and cleaning your clothes and those sheets," she said carefully.

"But why did it _take _you so long?" he snarled while holding her fist in an iron grip.

"Nothing," she whimpered, fearing the barber now that he was even more unpredictable than usual. "I was just…"

"What did you do there?" he shouted. "You've been down there almost an hour longer than usual. I should've been in my shop more than a quarter of an hour ago, but I had to wait until you had finished washing the shirts; I ran out of them, I have only one more clean shirt left. What if the Judge is in my shop right now?"

"I'm sure the Judge won't come so early in the…"

"But what if the Judge is here," he shouted wildly. "You are completely useless, you damned woman! All you do is prevent me from taking revenge! You, you…"

The madness in his yes was undeniable. She didn't understand it. He had seemed to be changed slightly, there had been some hope. And look at him now… a monster, that was what he was. The alcohol made him worse than a demon. She criticized herself for not hiding the gin better. Toby couldn't see the bottles on the highest shelf in the kitchen, but Sweeney certainly could.

"If I have missed the Judge because of this, I'll make sure you regret it!"

He looked at her with bloodshot eyes, before he picked up a few shirts and sheets and hastily staggered out of the room, almost hitting the wall when he did so.

She wanted to shout after, tell him that he couldn't work like this, that he'd might hurt himself accidentally, that he just could've come downstairs to _ask _for the things he needed. But she didn't. She couldn't bring herself to do so anymore.

She shook her head in disbelief and sighed deeply, not believing that this had really happened. Her optimism and energy were gone before the day had even begun. All because of Sweeney Todd. Sometimes she wished she could stop loving, stop caring, to prevent herself from being hurt and disappointed, but it was just impossible for her. No matter what he said or did, she loved him, and that would probably never change. All she wanted was him to love her back, if only for the shortest time…

"Mum, mum!" Toby interrupted her depressing thoughts. "We ran out of pies! Do you have new ones?"

It took her a few seconds before she realized what he was talking about. But yes, of course, the shop.

"Yes love," she said, feigning a smile once more. "They're on the table next to the door to the bakehouse. You can get them there."

The boy nodded and hurried downstairs to get the pies. Mrs. Lovett entered her shop, and when she did so, she was welcomed by the familiar interior and the customers, noisy as always. Yesterday it had been exactly the same, just like the day before that, and the week before, and the month before. This realization made her feel even sadder when she hurried from table to table to serve ale and gin. Every day attending to those men and women who ate those pies, which had taken her so many hours to bake, too greedily. She did the best she could, and yet she was always being told to work faster.

And besides, she had always hated routine; but the richer she seemed to get, the more predictable her life became. And all she wished, all she had ever wanted, was so simple. No money, no luxury, she couldn't care less, as long as the man she longed for so intensely would just…

"Mrs.! Mrs.!" Only when the man who had addressed her shook her shoulder lightly, she returned to reality. "Do you know that barber from upstairs?"

She nodded, but before she had done so, the man already continued talking.

"When I came in for a shave, he passed out. I don't know what's wrong with him, but you'd better take a look. It's obvious he's very unwell."

Before Mrs. Lovett could react, the stranger disappeared into the crowd.

Without bothering to tell Toby, who had just returned with the pies, that he would have to manage things alone for a while once more, she ran upstairs to Sweeney Todd's barber shop.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

It was like a perfect dream. The sickness and dizziness faded when two warm hands tended the wound at his head that was caused by his fall. Even though he was unconscious, he noticed how his head was resting in a woman's lap and that a soft voice whispered sweet words to him. The pain in his head and the cold in his body decreased when the woman comforted him. Her voice was familiar; he had heard it so often. And she looked after him, she had always done so, that's why he loved her so much. She was always there for him, and she loved him unconditionally. A curl of her hair brushed his face, and although he couldn't see it, he knew it was yellow, just like he knew that her shining light brown eyes were focused on him and that they were filled with sorrow for him, her husband.

Slowly the world around him returned, and he was confronted with a terrible headache. He grunted because of the pain, but the woman was there to give him something to drink. He didn't know what it was, but it tasted rather nice, and it made him feel better. How immensely grateful he was to have her at his side. She put a blanket over him, and told him to sleep.

Just before he was lost in oblivion again, he heard her whisper that she loved him. He smiled; despite the pain in his head he understood so well what she said.

"I love you too," he murmured. "You know I do."

She gasped in surprise, and with his last piece of consciousness, he wondered why.

"Silly woman," he muttered. "I've told you a million times already. You are my life, you are my everything, you are my Lucy."

He lost consciousness again, so he didn't notice how she dropped the cup of tea in shock only a second later, and he wasn't aware that she ran out of the room, crying, and that she slammed the door behind her.

Many hours later he woke up. He felt terribly cold, even more than usual, and he had no idea where he was and why, and he didn't know how he had gotten there.

He moved his arms around him to feel where he was. His hand hit something, but when he tried to feel what it was, he cut his finger on a small and sharp object that apparently was lying there.

Carefully he reached out further: there were more pieces on the ground. Their unexplainable presence made him feel very uncomfortable. There was something wrong: he felt even more miserable than usual, and he didn't know where he was. Since it was so damned cold, he was only sure that he wasn't still in Australia.

He moved to sit up and opened his eyes to find out what was going on, but he immediately fell back on the hard floor because of the awful feeling in his head. He groaned, both in pain and frustration. He laid down again on the wooden planks while trying to find out where he was and why, and how he had gotten there.

He couldn't remember it, and that scared him. All his memories from the recent past where vague, but most of them slowly returned. First of all, the hell his banishment had been, and then he remembered the moment he heard of the fate of his wife and daughter, and his hate for the Judge and the Beadle. He needed to kill them, he had to make sure that justice would prevail, sooner or later.

But first he needed to rest, so he could try to think and remember again later, when his head didn't feel like it could explode any moment. Something had happened, he was sure of it, but the last thing he could remember was that he had been looking at Mrs. Lovett in the mirror.

While he was thinking of that, his exhausted body finally slept, really slept, for the first time since such a long time, now that he was forced to lie down.

He dreamed, and in his dream the past and the present were mixed. He was alone, too alone, abandoned by everyone. The Judge was dead, everybody was dead; Sweeney Todd was robbed of his purpose. Without the thoughts of revenge he was nothing, he had nothing to hold on to. All that was left was a mirror. A huge mirror, and in front of it was a woman, wearing a beautiful silky dress. In his dream he approached the woman and stared at her in awe. She was his, and she loved him, that was very obvious. It would've been reassuring, if it was clear who the woman was. At first he was sure she was a tall woman with yellow hair, but then she seemed to get smaller and her hair changed color: yet the appearance never became who he instinctively felt she should look like, though he wasn't even sure who she was supposed to be.

Even when he woke up, the vision of the two women who turned into one was still in his mind, though the vague shapes faded quickly in his brain.

The only vivid memory that was left was what he had seen about twenty-four hours ago, and what apparently had returned in his dream, though he only realized now who the other woman must've been. It was the image of Mrs. Lovett, wearing his shirt and simply radiating with… something he couldn't describe. Joy, happiness?

Telling himself it was none of his business, he rubbed his eyes and opened them carefully. His head still ached, but not as badly as before. Slowly he sat up and he looked around, wondering again where he was, and why he was so cold and alone. When he looked around, he finally found out that he was in his barber shop; he was lying on the floor. To his surprise, he was covered with a blanket that was wet for some reason. Next to him were the remains of a cup, and the stuff that had been in it was partly on the blanket now. He was even more bewildered when he noticed that the door was open, so the freezing winter wind could blow inside.

His limbs were still weak, yet he managed to get up and while his hands never left the walls and the railing of the stairs, he managed to stagger downstairs. He headed towards Mrs. Lovett's living room. He needed to talk to her, so he could hopefully find out what had happened to him.

However, when he wanted to enter the room, he was stopped by Toby, who looked at him very angrily. In the background he heard someone crying, and he immediately knew who.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Mrs. Lovett couldn't stand it anymore. She had done so much for her dear barber, and there were so many things she still did, until a few hours ago.

She risked her life by allowing him to do kill his customers in the building she owned, she looked after him even after he had offended her. She washed all the blood from his shirts and cleaned his shop again and again and again, all because of the barber's quest for vengeance. But always there had been hope for her that Sweeney Todd would once love her with the same intensity as she loved him.

The barber had offended her, but she told herself this didn't mean anything because he had been drunk when he did so. He hadn't beaten her and he hadn't cut her throat, after all.

Mrs. Lovett had always been sure that once the Judge was dead, Sweeney could forget about the past, let the things that weren't there anymore rest, and start living again. When all memories of Lucy would fade, he would fall in love with his landlady, the woman who had helped him all this time.

The baker had always had hope, but not anymore. She had had enough now. Even when he was unconscious he managed to hurt her emotionally in the most horrible way. Calling her Lucy, like he still didn't see that it wasn't his wife who he thought to be dead, but his landlady who was looking after him for so long.

Mrs. Lovett just couldn't stand it anymore. The tiredness, her aching back, the shop, the work, all the blood, the corpses…

She should be in the shop now, but because things weren't going to plan anyway, she had ordered Toby to close the shop.

Now she was lying in her bed, hot tears welling in her eyes and slowly sliding down her cheeks, creating small pools of salty water on her pillow.

Toby was outside the room, as if he was watching over her from there. The boy wanted to support her and stay with her, but Mrs. Lovett desperately wanted to be alone and had ordered him to stay outside, and keep Mr. Todd out. Not that she expected him to come down to see her; he had just proved to her again how much he 'cared' for her after all. But if Sweeney felt the need to check on her, she didn't want to see him for she felt she would snap if he clearly showed her again that he didn't share her feelings.

She told herself that she didn't care about it anymore, that she was sick of the barber and his perpetual illusions about his wife. Lucy wouldn't come back, although she was still alive. Mrs. Lovett had chosen not to tell the barber that; in the first place she didn't want to hurt the man even more: she was sure that it was worse for him if he knew that his wife was still alive but that she wouldn't even recognize her husband anymore than having to deal with the loss before he would recover. And that was the second reason Mrs. Lovett hadn't told him the truth: because she had always sincerely believed, until a few hours ago, that Mr. Todd would forget about his wife. But now, she didn't believe that anymore.

"I won't let you in," Toby suddenly shouted.

Mrs. Lovett abruptly sat up in her bed, trying to hear what was going on outside her room.

"Let me in!" the barber snarled.

It was clear that Sweeney was annoyed because the boy apparently blocked his way, but the anger in his voice was what caught Mrs. Lovett's attention most of all.

She wondered why Mr. Todd wanted to enter her room. Would he offend her more, shout at her again, work off his emotions on her yet again… or worse?

"LET ME IN!" the barber shouted, enraged.

"I won't!" Toby yelled back, trying to match the barber's anger.

It became obvious that Sweeney wasn't just angry like he usually was, but for some reason, he was _very_ angry, and that made the man even more dangerous than usual.

Mrs. Lovett's heart skipped a beat when she suddenly remembered something. How she could've forgotten it she didn't know, but it _had_ happened, probably because Sweeney had hurt her so deeply only minutes later. Now she regretted it intensely, but when he had been lying there unconscious, so vulnerable and almost peaceful, she just wasn't able to resist. She had kissed him, very lightly; in fact, her lips had only brushed his, but he had stirred at the contact. Not much, but she had noticed it; and only half a minute later, he had woken up.

Now she regretted this; kissing him when he was unconscious and was as drunk as her late husband usually had been wasn't nice at all, and although she was sure that he hadn't noticed it, she started to doubt it now. For if he did remember that she had intruded his personal space like the way she had, that she had invaded his privacy… the barber would show her then how demonic he could be.

"Get out of my way boy!" Sweeney shouted, even more impatient and angry than before.

Mrs. Lovett trembled with fear and tried to hide beneath the blankets on her bed as she wished she could find a way to warn Toby against the barber. That man couldn't be stopped and maybe she could prevent the innocent boy getting hurt by ordering him to go away. But she did none of these things; she was too scared to move or speak.

"I will not let you in!" little Toby shouted. "How dare you threaten her like this? She always has been so kind to you, she did everything for you, and this is the way you thank her?!"

"Don't you dare say such things, it's none of your business! And now let me go through that door, you…"

The rest of his sentence was lost in a sudden outburst of noise. A scream from Toby and the sound of something heavy falling on the floor was all the baker could hear, but it was clear enough. She clasped her hand against her mouth, suppressing a scream herself, not believing that Sweeney had actually hit Toby so hard, or maybe even…

Mrs. Lovett slowly realized that there was nothing to stop the barber from entering her room, and she tried to hit her body underneath the blankets again, now knowing what else to do in her panic.

A few seconds later there was a loud crash; Sweeney kicked the door so violently that the lock broke and there was nothing but space between him and the baker.

Mrs. Lovett couldn't see him since she was hiding in her bed and her eyes were shut tight, but she could imagine how Sweeney scanned the room with those dark eyes of his, a razor in his hand and ready to kill.

"Mrs. Lovett!" he shouted. "I know you're there, otherwise that boy wouldn't have tried to stop me."

Her own rage, caused by whatever Sweeney Todd had done to her adoptive son, was stronger than her fear and she couldn't stop herself anymore. She jumped out of her bed and faced him, just as furious now as he was.

"What's this nonsense?" he yelled before she had even the chance to open her mouth. "Since when do I have to fight before I can talk to you? Since when do you hide in your bed when I want to speak to you?"

"What did you do that poor boy?" she shouted even more powerfully than him, ignoring his questions. "He has done nothing wrong! He's innocent and you know it, and yet you…"

"He deserved it!" Sweeney yelled back. "He kept me away from you, and I just wanted to check how you're doing!"

"How I'm doing," she screamed, not believing her ears. "Well _fine_, since you entered my room with such a grand entree and offended me in a horrible way only hours ago!"

"What the hell are you talking about? I just looked at you when you were standing there in front of the mirror, and maybe I shouldn't have done so, but don't you think you're overreacting a little bit?"

"You bastard! How do you even dare to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about? I've done everything for you during the past few months, _everything_, and you never even said 'thank you'. And this is how you finally show your gratitude?"

If she hasn't been so blinded by fury, she would've seen it coming, but now she didn't.

She failed to notice how he closed the distance between them within a second. She couldn't escape, and the look in his eyes told her that she had gone too far.

He grasped her arms and slammed her roughly against the wall.

She closed her eyes, sensing this was the end.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Sweeney Todd didn't know why he did it. He knew it was wrong and that he would regret it later. Yet, when he stared into Mrs. Lovett's huge brown eyes and felt her rapidly moving chest, he couldn't stop himself anymore. He tightened his grasp around her arm when she tried to fight him, holding her pinned against the wall. He looked at the fire in her eyes and her slightly opened mouth, and he just couldn't do anything else than bringing his mouth closer to hers; and without one moment of hesitation, he kissed her.

She tried to push him away, but all he did was force her to open her mouth for him.

In that moment of rage and ambiguity he wanted her, he _needed_ her. When she gave up resisting him and gave in to his kiss, Sweeney was lost in oblivion. For a few moments there was nothing but her body that was pressed so closely against his and their tongues that dueled for… something. The barber didn't really know; there was no love in the kiss, but at that moment, he didn't want to think about it: for although it was strange to touch a woman again after so many years, it felt _good_.

Mrs. Lovett was soft and warm, exactly the things he needed to forget about the world for a few seconds; when kissing his landlady, some of the pain and sorrow within him melted.

Sweeney wasn't tender, but he was sure she would understand that. Mrs. Lovett wanted him to be alright, she had told him so many times. And now he felt better; or maybe much more than that. He hadn't felt this well since…

_Lucy_.

When he thought of his wife, Sweeney abruptly broke off the kiss, realization crashing onto him.

Briefly he dared to look in Mrs. Lovett's eyes. He was unable to tell whether her eyes or his were clouded with lust, but when it really dawned on him what had just happened, he couldn't stand to be in the same room with her again.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, while he removed his hands, which were still lingering on her shoulders, before he left the room, almost running in his haste to get away from her.

_What_ had he done?

Sweeney headed for his barber shop, where he locked himself up after arriving there. He let himself fall in the barber chair and stared blankly into the distance. How could he have done this?

Although Lucy was gone forever, it felt like he was cheating on his wife. And Mrs. Lovett... he didn't dare to think of it. What he had done to his landlady was almost the same as what Judge Turpin had done to Lucy. Mrs. Lovett had resisted, but Sweeney had broken her will.

However… Mrs. Lovett _had_ kissed him back in the end. And that had been…

Sweeney jumped on his feet and yelled in frustration. He didn't know any other way to get rid of the mess in his head, so he hit the wall as hard as he could.

Blood sprung from his knuckles and reddened the floor, but it was nothing compared to the battle that was going on inside of him. Anger, hate, fear and confusion battled for domination and there was something else too. He couldn't give it a name, no matter how clear it was, for he had sworn that feeling was meant for only one woman.

Sweeney closed his eyes, forcing himself to bring some clearness to the total chaos in his mind. Images of Lucy, Johanna, the Judge and especially Mrs. Lovett crossed his mind, and all they fought for his attention. It drove Sweeney crazy, really crazy. He slammed his already wounded hand against the wall once more. The pain made him scream, but at least it distracted him from the haunting memories.

He sat down again and closed his eyes, trying to think of something that would make him feel less miserable or at least less confused.

He stared at his bleeding hand. Things were getting too complicated, and all because of Mrs. Lovett. He had never considered her more than a tool in his quest, something like a very small part of a machine; she was just the pie maker who did what she was supposed to do. Annoying, but necessary.

However, when she had stood there in front of him and had shouted at him with so much passion and power, something had accidentally managed to reach him in the coreof his being; she had hit his soul; the place that was only meant to store the memories that were left of Lucy and Johanna.

Or maybe it was even worse: Mrs. Lovett had stirred something deep inside of him, a place of which he had been sure was dead: his heart. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Mr. Todd sighed deeply once more. He wished he could sleep, so he could forget all the mess for a few hours. But he didn't sleep – he never did. Right?

Abruptly he sat up from the barber chair.

This evening he had woken up, he suddenly remembered that. This meant that he must've fallen asleep. But how, and when…

Sweeney panicked. He had missed something… almost an entire day. He had the sneaky suspicion that his landlady was the only one who would've been able to tell him what had happened.

Mrs. Lovett… he had to admit that he didn't dare face her anymore. She had made him feel ashamed of himself, by tempting him to feel things he was supposed to feel only for Lucy. And Mrs. Lovett hadn't even _tried_ to do so: they just had been arguing, screaming at each other…

Yes, Mrs. Lovett was a bloody wonder – and a bloody great kisser.

Sweeney didn't want it to, but that moment played again and again in his head. The way she had been so close to him, the way she had looked at him… he'd almost think that there was something going on inside of her of which he hadn't been aware at all.

Unable to stand still any longer, Mr. Todd started to pace through the room again, ignoring the wet blanket and broken teacup which were still lying there, a silent reminder of her presence.

He would prevent her from sleeping by doing so, but deep inside he was pretty sure that she wouldn't sleep anyway.

Out of nowhere he felt the desire to go back to her, to talk to her, if only to find out what exactly was going on. But it was a fact – he didn't have the courage to do so.

Somehow he feared the woman, who had become so unpredictable during the last day.

Sweeney paced faster, hoping that the continuous movement would calm him – but of course, it didn't.

He forced his brain to take priorities, to make choices, hoping that he could prevent himself from going insane that way.

He tried to make it clear to himself that Mrs. Lovett was only a distraction: the 'work' in the barber shop needed to be continued, revenge had to be taken: that was what it was all about, after all. _Lucy_.

Once Judge Turpin, the worst sinner from the entire city, was gone, Sweeney Todd could finally grieve over the loss of his family. And with a little luck, the blood that was spilled in the meantime could distract him from Mrs. Lovett.

Yes, he thought, ignoring her like he had always done would be the best: he shouldn't betray his lost wife after all. And besides, that kiss didn't mean anything. It had just happened in an impulse, and it was something purely physical. They both had been lonely for a very long time, and well, then things like this could accidentally happen. But it wouldn't occur again, Sweeney sworn to himself. Cause it didn't mean anything – did it?


	13. Chapter 13

Need 13

Mrs. Lovett didn't know what to feel anymore. In the last few hours so many things had happened that it was almost impossible to deal with it.

However, there was of course one thing that dominated her mind and she could still feel the aftermath of it in her body. Only minutes ago Sweeney Todd had kissed her, andshe would remember that for the rest of her life.

She hated the barber for the way he had invaded her room while she didn't want him to, she cursed him for ignoring her the way he had and she didn't want to care for him anymore, but when he had kissed her and just wouldn't stop, her resistance was broken. He was Sweeney Todd after all, the new version of Benjamin Barker, the man who she just couldn't stop loving.

Finally he had shown affection for her, he had said 'thank you' in the most wonderful way. Her heart seemed to be too small to contain all the love and emotion that went through her.

She had often said to herself that she would give everything in the world just to be able to kiss him only once, but now she realized how foolish that had been. When he had left her, so abruptly, she had let herself fall on the floor. She was trembling and although she had experienced now what she had wished all those years, she realized one thing: she wanted _more_. More kisses, more touches, more _him. _

Even now her hands were shaking and her breath came out in short thrusts. She lay down on the floor and while she stared at the ceiling with closed eyes, she recalled the way Sweeney's teeth and tongue had licked and bitten every part of her mouth. She wished she could see her own back and shoulders; she was sure the imprints of his nails were still there. But she didn't mind the pain, she even liked it, and she could only wish that something similar would happen once more. That short moment was everything she had lived for the greater part of her life.

While she tried to remember all those sensations that had gone through her system when the barber had kissed her, she suddenly remembered what had happened before Mr. Todd had broken her door.

_Toby. _

Abruptly she sat up and ran into the living room while she shouted the boy's name. Next to the door of her bedroom there was something lying on the floor.

"Toby?" she cried worriedly, praying that it wasn't as bad as she feared.

"Mum?"

The boy's voice was weak, but at least he was able to talk. Mrs. Lovett ran to the boy, and helped him sit up.

"Mum?" he asked again, blinking his eyes slowly.

"Yes love, it's me," the baker said, trying to comfort the boy. "Are you alright?"

He nodded and she hugged him gently.

"Poor boy," she said, shaking her head in disbelief while she ran a hand through his hair to comfort him.

She helped her adoptive son sit up and held him again because there was still fear visible in his eyes.

For a while they just sat there on the ground, both of them staring off into the distance.

"What did he do to you?" she whispered after a while.

"He hit me," the boy mumbled. "Not very hard, just to get me out of the way, but…"

He looked at her, his large eyes filled with adoration for the woman who looked after him as if he were her own son.  
"I'm so sorry Mum," Toby said. "I should've stopped him, I should've prevented him from hurting you and…"

"Hush love," Mrs. Lovett said gently. "You don't have to worry about me. Mr. T didn't hurt me. He was angry, but not with me. I'm so proud of you, for protecting me the way you did."

She shook her head when she noticed the wound on his head.

"Did Mr. T do that?"

"No Mum, not really. My head hit the wall when Mr. T pushed me away."

"You poor boy," Mrs. Lovett sighed while she inspected the wound; luckily it wasn't severe, she was sure it would heal within a few days.

"I hate him," Toby said quietly. "I hate Mr. T."

"Now love, what are you saying?!" Mrs. Lovett was shocked by the hatred in the boy's voice. "He has done you no wrong!"

"No, not to me," the boy said forcefully. "But to you! You help him so much, you're so nice to him, and see what he does in return! He shouts at you, he threatens you, he…"

"Toby, listen to me. I don't want you to talk like this about…"

"No Mum, you listen to _me_," Toby continued. "I have this strange feeling that if you continue to let Mr. Todd…"

"Toby…" there was a very strong warning in her voice, because she didn't want to hear what the boy had to say about the barber. Mrs. Lovett was very confused already anyway, and it would get even worse if the boy gave her his opinion.

"You just have to be careful Mum. You can't trust Mr. T, the way he looks at you when he thinks you don't see it…"

"_Shut up!"_

For a few seconds there was a very uncomfortable silence. The two looked at each other in shock, not believing that she had actually shouted to the boy like that.

"I'm so sorry," Mrs. Lovett muttered when she dared to speak again. "I shouldn't have…"

The little boy was obviously not sure whether he wanted to run away or support the baker, who clearly regretted what she had said.

Mrs. Lovett took the opportunity to take the boy's hand and excuse herself once more, hoping that she could prevent any more trouble.

"I'm really sorry love," she said softly to the boy. "Please forgive me for yelling at you. But it's just… Mr. Todd has been through a very hard time, that's the reason he behaves the way he does. He can't help it, and all we can do is try to support him, so he'll hopefully feel better, instead of blaming him."

"But he wanted to hurt you," Toby spoke weakly. "He said he wanted to speak to you and if Signor Pirelli wanted to 'speak' to a woman, then I knew what would happen."

"Hush, boy. Mr. Todd may be a barber, but that's the only similarity between him and Pirelli."

"If you say so, Mum."

The boy yawned and Mrs. Lovett was grateful for that; she was absolutely not in the mood to continue this conversation that would lead to nothing, except for more confusion. She was defending Mr. Todd after all, but she had no idea whether she said this to persuade Toby or herself.

"Everything is fine, you don't have to worry about it," she said again. "There were just a few problems with the shop, that's why Mr. T was so… impatient. I'll talk to him, because no matter how desperately he needs to speak to me, he should never hit you the way he did. And try to forget what happened. Tomorrow you'll feel better, I'm sure. For you, it's bed time."

The boy did like she asked him and lay down on the couch. Mrs. Lovett put a blanket over him and kissed his forehead, but he didn't feel it since he was sleeping already.

The baker stood there for a few seconds and while she watched Toby. She hoped that both the boy and Mr. Todd would behave better in the future.

Then she walked back to her room and only when she wanted to lock the door behind her, did she realized that this wasn't possible because Sweeney had broken the door, thus adding even more chaos to her life.

She let herself fall on the bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to think of a way that she could best approach the barber who was pacing in the room above hers again. The problem was that his behavior changed radically every few minutes and thus it was impossible for her to properly react to him. The one minute he let it seem he was going to kill her and ten seconds later he was kissing her, only to leave her abruptly. And before _that_, he had just declared his love once more to his wife; the woman he presumed to be death. Mrs. Lovett knew better, but even if Lucy was still the sane woman she was once had been, the baker still wouldn't say a word about her to Sweeney Todd. Mrs. Lovett was afraid that she had seen regret in the eyes of the barber at the moment that he broke off the kiss, but before that, he certainly hadn't shown it. Probably because his body just couldn't resist the temptation of a woman's body so close to his, but still.

Her thoughts were interrupted by his aggressively pacing feet. She imagined how the sound of it was like their hearts that had beaten as one for such a short time, but long enough to make her feel dizzy with desire for more.

Mrs. Lovett wasn't really surprised when she heard something that sounded like the barber hitting the wall with his hand or another part of his body and screamed in frustration. She wanted to go upstairs to help him, but she considered useless. Intuitively she was sure that he was punishing himself for betraying his wife by kissing his landlady.

Suddenly she wished that it had never happened. Sweeney had given her more than she could have ever dreamed of, but only to let her crave for more that he'd never give her.

She buried her head in the pillow, not wanting to hear the noise upstairs. For if she didn't hear his anger and shame, it was easier to pretend that getting more was not only a dream.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

To Sweeney Todd the night seemed to last even longer than usual. He killed the time by pacing for hours. Then he tried to make the time go by faster by staring outside for a while, but his eyes saw nothing but darkness. He continued walking through the room purposelessly, but that wasn't enough to keep his mind occupied.

The memories didn't leave him alone, and again the dream where he had dreamed of two women crossed his mind. He wondered what it meant. Maybe Mrs. Lovett was around him so much that he slowly started to forget about his wife and remembered his landlady instead? No, that couldn't be. How was it possible for him to forget his wife? And besides, he didn't _love _Mrs. Lovett. He had cared for her for a few days, but more than that… of course not. When his mind considered the strange attraction he sometimes felt for Mrs. Lovett, he forced himself to think of something else.

The pain in his hand had faded too soon. He wanted to hit something again so the mental pain would be numbed for a while, but if he hurt his fist again, he was afraid that he would damage it too much for it to work. That way, he would _never _have the opportunity to kill the Judge.

While the moon found its way from one part of the horizon to another, Sweeney forced himself to focus on the Judge. If that man was dead, at least one episode of his past was over. Mr. Todd was sure that he would then have the peace of mind to deal with Lucy's death. What else he could do after Turpin was killed, Sweeney didn't know.

It was impossible to have his Lucy back, but at the same time he wished that the situation with Mrs. Lovett would get back to normal. He had no idea what she had been ranting about earlier when she accused him of shouting at her and cursing her. Had he been accidentally rude to her, had he offended her without noticing it, or was there something else going on?

_No, the Judge. That's what it's about_, he thought, forcing himself for a few seconds _not_ to think of Mrs. Lovett wearing one of his shirts. But it didn't work, and again and again he recalled how beautiful she had looked, how much he had enjoyed watching her, and…

"STOP IT!" he shouted into the room, which was empty except for him.

Sweeney Todd had never felt so confused before. For fifteen years he had focused on only one thing: escaping so he would be able to return to his wife and child. When he had managed to get away from Devil's Island, he had found the building where he had lived empty. For months his only goal had been to take revenge. And now, during the past few days, he was discovering that the house wasn't empty at all. Mrs. Lovett was there, like she had always been, looking after him and caring for him.

He covered his head with his hands, ignoring the blood on his fist that dripped slowly on the floor. This would be the right moment to cry, finally, and even the barber felt that it would be a relief. But after all those years, the tears wouldn't come, not anymore. His eyes were wet and he wished the tears would just start to fall, so that after that perhaps he could find some sort of relief. But even tears failed him, as if the Australian heat hadn't only dried out his heart, but the rest of his body too.

He needed to do something, to at least prepare himself to get back to business. To distract himself he checked the mechanisms of the barber's chair, but it was working perfectly. Then he sharpened his friends just a little bit more. When that was done, he went to the bakehouse, just to have something to do.

The smell in the basement was horrible; even he had to admit that when a stench, even more disgusting than usual, reached his nostrils. There were a few bodies lying on the ground beneath the chute. According to the smell, they had been there for quite some time. This meant that Mrs. Lovett hadn't baked any pies either. This made him feel bad, but not only because she hadn't done any work for him lately. Even Sweeney almost had to vomit because of the horrors that were displayed in the basement.

Maybe he was caught off guard by the sight of the decomposing bodies, but suddenly the mental barrier between his actual mind and the memory of kissing Mrs. Lovett collapsed dramatically. Sweeney himself almost fell down too; he had to hold on to the wall for support, so intense was the feeling when he remembered the feel of Mrs. Lovett's skin, her hair, her mouth…

"NO, NO, NO!" he screamed, shaking his head wildly to get rid of the memories.

It didn't work, but he _had_ to get those images out of his head. When he looked at the remains of the men that were lying on the cold basement floor, an idea entered his mind.

Without one more thought, Sweeney picked up the largest butcher knife that he could find on the table where Mrs. Lovett usually baked the pies. Mr. Todd walked quickly to one of the corpses and with one well-aimed slash he chopped a part of the arm off the body. He cut again, and again, and again, and he kept cutting the corpses in pieces, as if he could get the frustration and confusion out of his head by doing so.

Only minutes later, nothing remained of the bodies except for bones and a lot of small red pieces of flesh. Sweeney was covered in blood and stared at the sight in front of him in disbelief, not believing that he had completely lost control.

Now the basement truly looked like the realm of a maniac. The barber shook his head, wondering how he could get rid of this total mess. He knew Mrs. Lovett had a strong stomach, but he just couldn't bring himself to let her clean the sickening scene he had created because he was trying to get the baker out of his head.

There was no way that the already rotting remains could be baked into pies without raising suspicion. Mr. Todd looked around the basement, considering his options. The drain caught his attention, but he realized that he just couldn't throw the cut human flesh in the water that would flow through half London before it finally would disappear in the…

When he thought of the river Thames, Sweeney knew that he had found the solution. The task of carrying the bones and other parts of the human anatomy all the way to the river was disgusting, but it was the only way to get rid of them.

Finally throwing the bloodied knife aside and holding his breath, Sweeney picked up a piece of something that might have looked like a human hand half an hour earlier. He looked away from it, his eyes focusing on one of the baskets, which Mrs. Lovett usually used to do… something. Sweeney didn't have any idea exactly what the baker was doing down here when she was baking the pies, only that he knew how long it took her so he knew when she would bring him his clean shirts. Suddenly he thought that it was rather funny that he didn't know exactly what she was doing in all those hours that she spent in the basement at night.

Telling himself it was none of his business, he threw the small part of the corpse in the direction of the basket, sighing in relief when the hand actually fell in it instead of on the ground next to it.

Mr. Todd continued this procedure until the basket was filled. Then he picked it up with difficulty and dragged it with him upstairs to the pie shop. He could only hope that the disgusting smell wouldn't wake anybody and that no one would see all the blood in the light of the few public lamps.

Sweeney Todd left the shop silently, sneaking through the luckily abandoned streets of London, looking for a place where he could dump the contents of the basket.

Although the streets were filthy, they were still too decent to let the remains of the bodies go by unnoticed if he just threw them somewhere among the other rubbish.

By the time he reached the Thames, Sweeney Todd was exhausted. The basket was heavy and the edges of it cut his hand.

The stench by the river was overwhelming, but the corners of Sweeney's mouth crept upwards in a dark smile because a few corpses more or less wouldn't be noticed here. He looked around quickly to make sure that nobody was watching him, and then he emptied the basket in the water. The contents hit the surface with a satisfying splash and only seconds later they had blended with the rubbish in the river.

The barber returned to the pie shop, carrying the empty basket with him and walking as much in the shadows as possible, even avoiding the drunken men he spotted a few times on his way back.

Almost two hours later, all the remains of the corpses were finally removed from the bakehouse. Sweeney Todd was exhausted, but at least the extremely tiring work distracted him from thinking of Mrs. Lovett.

In the basement he washed his hands and face in one of the tubs that was there. Mrs. Lovett had probably brought it there a while ago to wash something with, but the water smelled like it was still unused. The barber took one cleaned shirt from a pile that was in one of the less dirty corners of the basement before he returned to the barber shop.

All he wanted to do was sleep, but if he did that, the nightmares and memories would return. He forced himself to stay awake, and to have something to do again he removed his blood on the wall and cleaned the tea from the floor that was still there. The old blanket that Mrs. Lovett had placed over him when he was unconscious was thrown in a corner.

He worked quietly so he wouldn't wake his landlady, but even with this slower speed the job was done eventually.

After looking through the room once more, the barber finally let his body fall into the barber chair, trying to focus on thinking of killing the Judge in the most horrible way. But it didn't ease the pain caused by Lucy's and Johanna's absence.

Then, his thoughts automatically drifted to Mrs. Lovett. For one time, he didn't fight it.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Mrs. Lovett hadn't slept well, but she woke up early nonetheless. She was filled with a strange restlessness. Though the pie shop had been closed for several days and although she still didn't feel really well, she decided to open it again. She was sure that if she went back to work, she wouldn't be forced to think of Mr. Todd like she had almost non-stop during the past few days.

Toby was slightly surprised when the baker woke him, but pretended not to notice that she feigned optimism or how sad she was when she thought that he wasn't looking.

While the boy prepared breakfast for the two of them, Mrs. Lovett checked the bake house. There weren't any corpses waiting for her, which was very unusual. She didn't remember it had been like this last time that she had checked, but it had been a few tough days which she mostly had spent in bed; brooding, worrying and sometimes crying, so she just blamed her own troubled brain for the doubt.

She was glad that she didn't have to start her day with chopping off limbs from dead bodies. The only bad thing was that she had to buy normal meat now, a simple process that she wasn't really used to anymore. The baker raised her brow, wondering when it was the last time that she had last been to a butcher shop, but she couldn't remember it. She shook her head, wondering for how long Sweeney Todd had been manipulating her life the way he did, but she couldn't recall. Instead of worrying about it any longer, she took a piece of paper from an old notebook and wrote down the amount of meat that she had always ordered in the past. Only seconds later she realized that with that order she could only feed one percent of her customers and that she would have to start to think like a real business woman instead of an owner of a shop that no one ever visited.

When Mrs. Lovett returned to the living room, there was still a piece of bread on the table.

"Why haven't you eaten your bread?" Mrs. Lovett asked Toby. "Are you ill?"

"I'm fine and I've had breakfast. But I thought that I'd give this to Mr. Todd, so you don't have to."

"If Mr. Todd wants something to eat, he can come down to get it," Mrs. Lovett said bluntly after she had considered the statement of her adoptive son.

The boy smiled. Just like his Mum, he hadn't forgotten how Sweeney Todd had behaved the previous day.

"Toby, there's something you have to do for me," the baker said, wanting to change the subject.

"Anything you say Mum," the boy replied, smiling because he could help.

"I want you to go to the butcher… you know where his shop is, right?"

The boy nodded and Mrs. Lovett handed him the small letter she had just written.

"What is that?" Toby asked; like many other boys he had never learned to read or write.

"I've written on it what I need, so you don't have to remember it all. The butcher will understand it. All you have to do is give this to him; then he'll give you what I wrote on it."

Toby studied the note fanatically.

"It looks really complicated Mum! Where did you learn to do that?"

"My father taught me; he had learned to write at school. He was very proud if that since there weren't many men like him who could afford to go to school. I've never been there, though I wanted to. But for girls it's even harder to get education, even when you _have_ enough money."

Mrs. Lovett sighed when she recalled the fuss she had created when she had asked her mother if she could go to school. Although her father had loved to teach his daughter things, his wife

had always said that their daughter only had to do two things: help her parents in the household and marry a suitable man as soon as possible.

"Can you teach me how to read too?" the boy asked eagerly, feeling that he could be of more use as if he could understand messages like the one Mrs. Lovett had written for the butcher.

"If you want to…" Mrs. Lovett answered. She was glad that the boy wished to be educated, because she knew this could give him a chance of a better life later. "We could try a few lessons."

The boy nodded eagerly when she said this.

"It'll take some time to learn it though, especially for you."

"Why is that Mum?" he asked quietly, like he really thought that he was too dumb to learn to read.

"I'll tell you a secret," Mrs. Lovett said, trying to keep a straight face. "You're holding the note upside down."

The boy looked at the piece of paper for a few seconds, mesmerized, then he turned it around.

"I don't see any difference," he said softly.

Mrs. Lovett giggled, she just couldn't help it, but the boy's face was simply priceless.

Toby looked at her but when he noticed the kindness in her eyes, he laughed too.

"I'm sorry Toby," she said, "that was mean of me. But you were holding it upside down and you looked at it so seriously… I just thought it was… funny."

She was silent after she had said the last words, realizing that she hadn't considered something funny for quite some time.

"Are you alright?" The boy asked worriedly when she didn't say anything anymore.

"I'm fine love," she said, smiling happily. "I'm fine. And I'm glad you are here."

"Me too Mum," he answered sincerely.

Mrs. Lovett smiled once more, feeling there was at least something in her life she liked.

"I'll teach you this evening," she said, thinking how nice it was to learn the boy something and to be distracted from thinking of Mr. Todd. "Now go to the butcher before all the meat is sold."

She handed him a purse.

"Alright Mum," he shouted cheerfully before he hastily left the shop.

Mrs. Lovett watched the boy run through Fleet Street, enjoying the motherly love she felt for the boy. He was the closest to a son she'd probably ever have, she thought when she went to the bake house where she created the dough for the pies while singing softly, forgetting about the ever so ambiguous Sweeney Todd, just like she had hoped.

Toby returned half an hour later with the meat. He put it on the counter where she was working and handed her the change.

"Thank you," she said, smiling again.

"Do you want me to help you? I'm sure I can learn how to bake pies."

"No thank you Toby. I'll be done quickly, but the shop is quite a mess. Could you clean the table and chairs? That hasn't been done for a few days."

"Of course Mum," he said, while picking up a broom. "It'll be cleaner than ever."

She wished the boy could stay to help her. She hadn't said it to Toby, but her back began to ache again despite the break she had had. But the boy couldn't' be around in case Mr. Todd would continue his 'business'.

For some reason, she hoped that he wouldn't do so. Then some things might change back to like it once had been. After all the trouble she had been through with Sweeney Todd the past few days, it seemed now like a blessing to live for a while without him so she just could enjoy the success of

her shop without having to worry about the barber's aggression and the unexpected changes of his mood. Besides, she couldn't stand his absentmindedness and she hated it when he ignored her or pretended to do so, nor did she like his violence and unpredictability.

But no matter how impossible his behavior was and how he treated her, she knew that she could never really forget about him. Yet, doing this seemed the only way to keep her life bearable.

While she put the meat in the pies and placed the already finished pies from the oven on trays, she promised herself to try to avoid the barber in the future, thus protecting herself and Toby.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

That night, Sweeney Todd didn't only miss Mrs. Lovett because she didn't bring him his meal as usual. A long denied part of him had lookingbeen forward to seeing her during those last and darkest hours of the night. Not only just because she was basically the only person who he talked to and she was the one that had looked after him, but mostly because he couldn't get her out of his head since he had kissed her.

Maybe it was a good thing that she hadn't come, he thought while he was waiting for a customer the next day. It meant that she was angry with him and avoided him. That was a good because she couldn't tempt him that way to do anything that a married man wasn't supposed to do (even though his beloved wife had died so many years ago).

After a while, his first customer of that day arrived to never leave. Usually the barber liked to give his customers an unjustified feeling of comfort by whistling or humming a song, but not today. Mr. Todd realized he was hungry and he didn't have the patience to wait any longer to find something to eat, so only seconds after the man had sat down, the barber cut the customer's throat without any hesitation.

Sweeney Todd was about to pull the lever of the chair to send the corpse to the basement when he remembered how Mrs. Lovett had stolen Pirelli's purse from his dead body weeks ago. This customer doubtlessly had money with him too and if the barber would steal it, he could buy himself a meal.

Instead of pulling the lever immediately, Sweeney Todd first checked the contents of the pockets of the corpse, just like he had seen Mrs. Lovett doing.

Half a minute later the barber was holding a small black purse with a few pound in it; enough to buy a proper breakfast.

The shop was a mess like always and his time he would have to clean it himself. But first he needed to eat. He put on his coat, thus keeping the stained shirt that had been the last clean one, out of sight.

The barber entered he first bakery he saw and bought there an entire loaf of bread. He didn't know how long Mrs. Lovett would continue avoiding him, but he guessed it would be for quite some time. He certainly didn't blame her. He didn't know why she had been so angry with him before he had kissed her, but that kiss itself explained her hard feelings towards him. It had been very wrong indeed and he would have liked to apologize, but just the thought of having to face her again in her anger was enough to scare the demon barber.

Sweeney sat down on a bench in a park to eat a few slices of bread. For the first time since his return to London, he actually looked around. He noticed how most of the people who were in the park walked in groups, especially in pairs.

Despite the hard life most of them lived, they seemed somehow happy because there was one thing they had at least: each other.

Suddenly Sweeney Todd felt so much lonelier than before and feelings of melancholy overwhelmed him. During the years in banishment the memories of Lucy and Johanna had faded, but he was sure he wouldn't need those anymore when he would return, because they would be waiting for him in their home above Mr. and Mrs. Lovett's pie shop.

But none had been there when he returned and the already faded memories disappeared more every day. Or rather, more every time he cut another throat, if he ended another life, almost in the same way his own life had ended by Judge Turpin when he sent him to Devil's Island. Judge Turpin… he was the only one responsible. The Beadle too maybe, but mostly the Judge. But Turpin wouldn't set foot in his shop this way, that was becoming clear now. Killing all those men in the mean time turned out to be useless. It was a good practice, but hadn't he practiced enough now? Didn't he cut throats to kill the time until Judge Turpin would come; but what was the use if that despicable man wouldn't show up anyway?

When Sweeney Todd was eating his bread slowly, still sitting on the wooden bench, he thought of that foolish Italian, or Englishman or whatever he was. Pirelli got so many customers just because he claimed to be London's best barber, while in fact, he clearly wasn't.

Suddenly Mr. Todd knew exactly what to do and a solid plan started to develop in his head at incredible speed.

The judge had to be killed in the shop; he already had figured out that bit. Because if somebody saw the murder happening, the barber would be hanged. But that wasn't what he feared. During this 'process' he would be tortured, just like the time he was arrested on false charges, almost sixteen year ago. It had been horrible, even worse than the banishment itself. Going through that pain and fear once more just wasn't an option for his still tormented being.

So, the Judge had to be killed in the barker shop, there simply was no other option. He couldn't simply go to the Judge's manor, demand a meeting with him and just stab him, like the barber had considered doing when he was banished. It had to happen in his shop. No witnesses, no reports, so no more pain. Then he would be able to kill Turpin and everything would be over. Only then he would decide what to do, after that moment.

Probably he'd try to help Anthony save Johanna and maybe he could be the father he never had the chance to be before and forget all the pain that had be inflicted on him.

But not yet. First, the Judge and the Beadle had to be murdered. They had to be lured into the barber shop and Mr. Todd desperately hoped that his new plan would work for he was tired of the waiting. He wanted it to be over forever.

To get the Judge to his shop, it was clear that only the Beadle's advice wasn't enough. If the Judge would hear from other (and more reliable) sources about the best barber of London, then that man would come to his shop quickly, wanting to be able to be part of the conversation about this talented barber. The more sources, the sooner Turpin would come, so…

"I have to let them live," Sweeney muttered to himself. "I have to shave them as well as I can, let them pay, but not too much… give them some discount if they bring me new customers…"

It was perfect. No more crimes, no more corpses which Mrs. Lovett had to take care of, no more blood to be removed, he'd make some money so he wouldn't be so dependent of his landlady anymore… perfect. It seemed like a heavy burden was lifted from his shoulders, a burden that had been there for so long that he hadn't realized anymore that he was still carrying it with him.

The barber decided to stay sitting a little longer so he could think of things that could make his shop more appealing for his customers.

He didn't really know how he could relieve the gloom in his barber shop, but maybe Mrs. Lovett had some advice and perhaps she would offer to help if… if he dared to ask. Maybe he should do something to gain her trust again.

He wondered what kind of things Mrs. Lovett would like to have. He only had distant memories of things that Lucy would've liked. Perfume, jewels, beautiful dressed… but that didn't suit Mrs. Lovett. Flowers maybe? No, they didn't last long. He wanted to give her something that she could have for a very long time, something that showed how grateful he was for everything that she had done for him.

When the barber had eaten enough bread, he took the remains with him and headed for the nearest bookshop, hoping to find a suitable present for Mrs. Lovett.

In the shop was an unbelievable amount of books. There was far too much choice and he had no idea what Mrs. Lovett would like most of all these books.

He was about to enter the shop, telling himself that he had no reason to buy Mrs. Lovett something anyway, when his eyes fell on a small book with an image of a beach on the front. He picked it up and looked it in. On every page was a beautiful drawing of an exotic landscape. She'd love it, he was sure of that.

He walked to the counter and gave the book to the salesman, gesturing that he wanted to buy it.

"That's 1 pound 50, sir," the man on the other side of the desk said.

Sweeney had to suppress the urge to cut the man's throat that moment for asking so much money for a _book_.

For a few seconds he stared at the slightly uncomfortable salesperson and he was about to leave the shop without the book before the barber realized something.

When he had returned to London, Mrs. Lovett had looked after him selflessly and she had done so for weeks. If there was someone who deserved to have something nice, it was her. What the baker had done for him could never be repaid in money. The best he could do, was give her something to show his gratefulness.

Without saying one more word, Sweeney paid for the book. There were only a few remaining pennies in the stolen wallet, but he didn't care.

While thinking of ways to apologize to Mrs. Lovett, he returned to 186 Fleet Street and its owner.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Although Mrs. Lovett didn't see Sweeney Todd all day, she felt somehow happy. She missed the part of Benjamin Barker that had still been hidden somewhere within the demon barber, but it was good to be rid of the dark side of him with which she had been confronted many times the last few days. He had only killed once customer that day and because that was in the morning and she had directly 'used' the meat, the rest of the day was the most normal one since the barber's return to London.

She didn't worry about his absence Sweeney Todd couldn't look after himself but he clearly didn't need much and he had to run into some really serious trouble before he couldn't find – or rather _cut_ – his way out of it.

Mrs. Lovett worked in her shop and the bake house without worries, enjoying the success of her shop and Toby's presence. Her body functioned how it should most of the time, probably because Toby carried most of the heavy trays which were filled with food.

The customers seemed to enjoy the pies with normal meat as much as the ones with the secret recipe and the money kept coming. It gave her hope of a good standard of living, even without Mr. Todd. Of course, she missed the parts of his personality that weren't insufferable, but she had lived without him for twenty years. Even when he was still in London and they were both married to someone else, he hadn't been hers, yet she hadn't been very unhappy – or was that only a lie to comfort herself?

Mrs. Lovett was glad she had promised to Toby to teach him to write, because she kept brooding about Sweeney Todd all day and the lesson would keep her overactive mind occupied.

So that evening, when the last customers had left, everything had been cleaned and some new pies already had been baked, she and Toby sat down in the living room while enjoying a few cups of tea and biscuits. Mrs. Lovett had taken some sheets of paper and a pencil from one of the drawers in her living room.

During the working day she had thought of a lesson plan for Toby. She decided to teach the boy to pronounce and write single letters of the alphabet first. To achieve this, she wrote down the first letters of the alphabet first multiple times, saying them loud and clearly every time she wrote down an A, B or C.

The boy did a better job than she had expected; within fifteen minutes he was capable of writing and pronouncing those letters. Enthusiastically they continued the lesson, going on to the D, E and F.

Because they were so occupied, neither of them was aware of Sweeney Todd, who was standing in the doorway, watching them intensely.

Almost two hours later, Toby could manage to write and spell the first half of the alphabet fluently. Mrs. Lovett was extremely proud of the boy and filled with motherly affection for him.

Because it was almost ten o'clock already, Toby went to the couch to sleep after Mrs. Lovett had given him the last remaining biscuit. When she returned to the table to bring back the paper and teacups, she found Mr. Todd on the chair where Toby just had been.

She stared at the barber; she surprised, shocked and relieved, wondering why he was there. Was he mad, was he sorry perhaps, or just confused? Would he want to kill her for some reason, or… _apologize?_

Mrs. Lovett kept staring at him, not knowing what to say. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about him seemed to be different.

"Are you alright?" she finally asked, not really expecting an answer anyway, but just wanting to break the silence, hoping to figure out what the purpose of his sudden visit was.

She was rather surprised when he _did_ open his mouth.

"I feel rather well, Mrs. Lovett," he said, even looking in her eyes, which made her heart flutter. "In fact, if feel better than usual."

"I'm glad to hear that," she said, smiling gratefully, hoping that the moment she had been looking forward to for so long, was slowly coming within reach after all.

"Is there something you need?"

"No thank you Mrs. Lovett. I just want to... talk."

"Of course," she said, when she sat down on the chair opposite him. "What is it that you want to talk about?"

"Nothing in particular, I just want to talk to someone for a while."

She ignored the 'someone' part, which made it seem he'd talk to everybody who he happened to meet, not necessarily her.

"That boy is lucky," he said when she didn't react.

"How do you mean?" she asked, bewildered.

"Toby. That you're teaching him. He's lucky to have someone like you."

She smiled, blushing: she wasn't used to get compliments, especially not from _him_.

"He's the only one I have," she said, casting down her eyes, suddenly feeling shy now that he actually looked at her, like he finally understood that she was not only a pie maker and a shop owner, but a human being with own needs and dreams too.

He seemed to realize this too and he broke the eye contact.

"About the shop," he said quickly, like he had never made his last remark after he seemingly realized that he hadn't come for _this_ kind of conversation. "I'll try to get the Judge here in another way."

She looked at him in shock, expecting even more blood and gore.

"I was thinking… what if I lure him in just by my reputation. If I would start from now on actually being the best barber in town, customers will spread the word of my skills instead of ending up in pies. That way, the chance is much bigger that the Judge will be told about me and decide to come for a shave too. Then I have the chance to kill him, but I don't think I'll ever get it if I've to wait for the Beadle to persuade him to come here."

Mrs. Lovett stared at him, not believing that the now perhaps former demon barber said something which actually sounded like a good and _rational _plan.

"Do you think that's not a good idea?" he said insecurely when he saw the unfamiliar look on her face.

"Mr. T! I think it's a brilliant."

He nodded and a smallest feeling of joy reached his heart because of her radiating smile.

"So you approve?"

"Of course I do. It's a great plan, much better than the previous one.'

"So you aren't angry? You won't get any free meat anymore."

"That doesn't matter. I can pay for normal meat now and the customers don't seem to taste the difference between humans and cows anyways, stupid buggers they are. And besides, those corpses weren't really nice to work with."

"I'm sorry for that, Mrs. Lovett."

She wasn't sure he really meant it, but the fact he said it was already a major progress.

"I want to ask you something," he added shyly.

Her heart started to beat faster. The man was in such an uncharacteristic, Benjamin Barker-ish mood, that she could expect everything from him now, even the most unthinkable and impossible.

"Can you help me decorating the barber shop?"

That was certainly not what she had hoped to hear, but at least asked her for her help kindly and that was an improvement too.

"Of course, Mr. T," she replied. "We can start tomorrow, if you want to. Do you have any plans for the decoration yet?"

"I'll leave it to your professional judgment," he said, a hint of a smile on his lips that made her feel weak.

Although it was hard to believe, Sweeney Todd was changing. Maybe Benjamin Barker wasn't dead after all.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"Mrs. Lovett? Can I ask you one more question?" Sweeney Todd said.

"Of course you can dear," she said, while smiling at the barber.

That smile of hers… He hadn't seen it for a long time (or maybe he had, but perhaps he hadn't paid attention to it), but now he saw how wonderful it was; so happy and bright. The warmth of it even seemed to reach his heart.

"It's a personal question."

"You can always ask."

He didn't really dare to, but she looked at him expectantly so he decided to take his chance.

"Why don't you have any children?"

She stared at him, making it obvious she hadn't expected this question.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I shouldn't have asked."

"Don't worry Mr. T, it doesn't matter. I just hadn't expected you to ask this since family is a bit of a... painful topic for you."

For a few seconds the familiar snarl was back on his face, but then he recovered.

"I'm just… curious. I can tell you enjoy Toby's presence and I remember how nice you always were to Johanna. I realized for the first time you don't any children of your own."

"I wanted to have children of my own," she replied softly, "but not Albert's. He was never very nice to me and I'm quite sure the process of getting pregnant would've been painful for me. I avoided being in his bed at night, telling him that I was an insomniac. He had certainly tried, but I just wouldn't let him and after a few months he left me alone. Not that this improved our marriage, but… at least he didn't bother me physically anymore."

There was a very sad look on her face and Sweeney Todd wondered how he never could have noticed any of the misery that had apparently been going on in the house of his neighbors. Was it because he had been so happy himself, or just because he hadn't _wanted_ to see?

Mrs. Lovett stared off into the distance, hardly noticing the barber anymore. Mr. Todd felt that there was something she didn't tell him, but when he saw tears welling in her eyes, he didn't dare to ask. It was unbelievable that he had known this woman for so many years, but that he actually hardly _knew_ her.

The baker was on the verge of crying now and when she looked at him, she began to sob.

"Mrs. Lovett?" he asked, shocked. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have…"

She didn't calm down when he hushed her. She looked so sad that he just couldn't stand seeing it.

Carefully he stepped closer to her to rub her back gently, hoping that he could comfort her that way.

But he failed and when he tears didn't stop rolling down over her face, he suddenly couldn't prevent himself from getting closer to her.

She didn't resist when he pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. He rocked her body softly and let her head rest on his shoulder. Her tears fell on his hands and shoulders and he allowed himself to surrender to her silent calmness, that even comforted him when she was crying. His head was buried in her curly hair and all that he heard were her quiet sobs.

Then, something unique happened.

The limitless hate and sorrow he had felt for so long, were somehow soothed by her tears and he couldn't control himself any longer. His own tears, which had been held back for so long – maybe because he didn't want to be weak, maybe because he had been incapable of crying after all the horrors from his past – welled in his eyes.

Those few tears became a small river of salty water, running down over his cheeks, dropping into Mrs. Lovett's hair.

Together they cried, clinging to the other as if they were the last chance of salvation. And maybe they were: they knew things of each other no one else knew and they were the last thing in a dark world that they could completely rely on.

It was a relief to Sweeney Todd to finally show is sorrow; some of his grief and fear seemed to leave his body along with the tears.

Time seemed to have stopped, or at least, it wasn't important anymore.

When he found himself pressed against Mrs. Lovett, it could've been minutes or hours later.

Her breath warmed not only his skin, but the coldness inside too. When she held him and whispered words of comfort to him now that she wasn't crying herself anymore, his tears stopped falling too. But he stayed close to her to savor her kindness and warmth a moment longer and to enjoy her hands that caressed his back for a few more seconds.

In some way, it felt like he was born again: some of the unbearable pain he had been struggling with all these years, had vanished and memories from long ago seemed to have faded even more.

Yet, he was still aware of the reason he had returned to London. That was not to be comforted by Mrs. Lovett, no matter how soothing that turned out to be. And certainly he wasn't supposed to feel the tiniest bit of longing for the woman who had looked after him during all these weeks, who endured his aggression and killings so willingly.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked quietly.

He removed himself from her embrace, missing her close presence the moment it was gone. Both their eyes were red from crying and hints of tears were visible on their cheeks. He allowed her to wipe the wetness from his face and while she did so, he closed his eyes and for the shortest amount of time, he only lived in the present, forgetting the past, including Lucy and Johanna; but the moment was over soon.

He stared at his landlady's face and wondered why a woman like her should cry. If even the bubbly and cheerful Mrs. Lovett was so sad, how bad things must be in general?

He moved to leave the room, remembering again he had to make sure everything would get ready for the killing of the Judge and the Beadle. When they were gone, London would be at least a little less threatening.

"Are you alright?" she asked again.

"I'm feeling better," he said, not having to force himself to sound sincere because this time, he actually meant what he said.

"I'm very glad to hear that," the baker said, smiling a little. "If you ever feel sad again… just know that I'll always be there for you."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Sweeney Todd was about to leave the room, but just before he touched the doorknob, he turned back into the light of the oil lamps.

"Mr. Todd?" Mrs. Lovett looked at him expectantly, wondering if he would surprise her once again. The evening had already been filled with unexpected moments; he had even allowed her to hold him. It was something she had longed for a very long time, and although it had felt so good when they embraced, there was still something missing. When he had asked her about children, she had started to say that she didn't want Albert's children, that she had been waiting to bear the child of the barber who now stood in front of her. Only at the last moment did she stop herself, not wanting to destroy this precious moment.

"Mrs. Lovett?"

She realized she was staring at him.

"I'm sorry, I was thinking about something else."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No, please, I appreciate your presence, Mr. Todd."

Todd studied her from head to toe. His eyes were clearer than usual and this slight improvement made her heart bang against her ribcage.

"You'll help me with decorating the shop, won't you?" he finally asked, after convincing himself she was telling the truth.  
"Yes," she answered, wondering if he really needed to ask. "When would you like me to start?"

"Tomorrow morning. You need to sleep now."

"You should sleep too," she reminded him.

"No," he said powerfully. "I can't. If I sleep, the memories… they become unbearable. I have to forget… the thought of Lucy and Johanna… It's unbearable."

The baker looked at him curiously. She had never considered that the demon barber wanted to forget his family. But there was no time to ponder this new fact; Sweeney was opening his mouth to speak again, to tell her something even more surprising.

"Mrs. Lovett… I want to thank you."

A smile crept onto her face, and her eyes sparkled at the gratitude he showed so unexpectedly.

"And I want to apologize for certain things I've done to you, things you didn't deserve."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her smile widened. She was almost unable to believe what was happening. The baker had given up hope, but it seemed now that Sweeney Todd might be able to love her. This was a first step at least. She knew he would never be Benjamin Barker again, but to her it didn't matter: Sweeney Todd had something about him that attracted her even more and, the biggest plus, this version of Benjamin Barker wasn't married with Lucy.

If the killings would stop, which seemed to be happening, that day she had been living for might come. Warmth spread through her body, chasing away the coldness that had been there without her noticing.

They stared at each other for a few uncomfortable seconds. Then the barber stepped back, creating more distance between them.

"Is everything in the shop going fine?" he asked, changing the topic to a less personal subject.

"Yes, it's busy as ever."

"And the pies? Are they still selling now that you're just buying the meat?"

She nodded, not bothering to answer verbally. She couldn't believe that they were discussing business again when only seconds before the atmosphere had been so much more intimate. But she tried to see it from the bright side: at least he still took some effort to ask about her work.

Even though the pies were normal now, and perhaps as bad as they had always been, the customers kept coming, probably because there were always so many people in her shop and all the pies were sold so quickly.

"Everything is well," she added when he kept looking at her as if he was expecting more than a nod. "And you?"

He looked at her with those too familiar sad eyes, and she knew he wasn't fine, that he would probably never be fine.

"I feel like I'm drowning," he said, in the same tormented voice that he had spoken with earlier. "Like I haven't had any oxygen for more than fifteen years, yet I'm not dead. I want nothing, except for getting my wife and child back. But I know that's not possible and sometimes I just wish that I had never been so happy with them, because there is now nothing left but emptiness and longing for something I'll never have again. The knowledge of what happened to them, that my wife is gone forever and that even if Anthony can save my daughter, she'll be so much different than the girl she once was, so many years ago… she's a woman now… and I've never had the chance to be there to see her grow up. And my Lucy… I miss her so much. But I can't even remember the sound of her voice or the feeling of her skin anymore. I can't recall what she looked like, I've forgotten the exact color of her eyes…"

Never in her life had Mrs. Lovett felt so sorry for someone as she did for Sweeney Todd at that moment. There was nothing left in him except for an intense grief that overwhelmed even her. She wanted to hold him again, but knew this wasn't the right time.

For the shortest moment the baker realized that if she ever wanted to tell Sweeney that Lucy Barker was still alive, this was the right time. But just looking at the tormented barber filled her heart with so much love that she couldn't bring herself to tell him. And besides, Benjamin's wife had stopped being Lucy Barker the moment her husband had been banished and she had taken the poison. She was a beggar woman now, another starving woman in the streets of eastern London, who had nothing in common with the wife and mother she once had been. Even her yellow hair, which she had once been so proud of, was nothing but dull strands of gray.

No, Mrs. Lovett thought. If she told the barber, she would hurt him even more. No matter how much pain it caused for him to think his wife was dead, it was better for him to believe that it was so instead of knowing the horrible truth.

But except for preventing him from finding out about the reality of his wife, there was nothing more she could do. This was his struggle. He had to go through the process of dealing with the misery himself. All she could do was be there for the few moments he needed a shoulder to cry on and to help him lure the Judge and the Beadle into his shop. With the passing of time, and with the deaths of the two men who were responsible for the tragic fate of the barber's wife and daughter, he might finally be able to deal with the terrible wounds in his soul.

Maybe, when everything was over, he could start all over again and Mrs. Lovett hoped wholeheartedly that the barber would allow her to be part of that new life.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

It was strange for Sweeney Todd to hear those sensitive words coming from his own lips, but it was the truth. Living his life, or rather, what was left of it, did feel like dying. He lived half in the present, half in the past with his family, but the part of him that was left in the past seemed to be fading, leaving only fifty percent of himself to continue living with. Whether that was enough, he didn't know, nor was he certain if things would get better if he killed Judge Turpin.

Perhaps memorizing how happy he once had been wouldn't be so painful anymore if he had punished the one who had taken this all from him. Maybe he would be finally free then to live again. The barber wasn't sure of it, but he hoped it with all his heart. He didn't know if he could survive any longer living like this; every time he fell asleep, he heard Lucy screaming in his head or he saw his little daughter crying. When he stared off in the distance he recalled the heat he had suffered from when he was on Devil's Island or he felt the clubs of the guards hitting his back again and again.

What Sweeney Todd feared most of all, even more than going through all this again, was that brutally murdering Judge Turpin wouldn't make a difference. What if he still would be haunted by nightmares in his sleep, if his mind still would be filled with pain and fear?

Slowly he shook his head, not wanting to think about this and trying to ignore Mrs. Lovett's eyes, in which he read pity, sorrow and so many more things of which he didn't dare to think.

She would be there for him; that was what she had said. How it was possible he didn't know, but when she was near, the pain within him was soothed slightly and he could simply surrender to his own fear and doubts; with her, he could be weak without being punished for it.

The baker must've understood his look and he wondered how much she could actually see in his eyes. She knew him so well, sometimes she seemed to know more about how he felt than he actually did himself.

Mrs. Lovett stepped closer to the barber and moved to place her hand on his shoulder. He stepped back, not wanting her to touch him. Not because he wouldn't like the feeling of her hand, but because he was suddenly afraid that he'd do something he'd regret later if he let her touch him – something like the kiss they had shared, which had ended with so much regret.

So when his landlady stepped closer to him, he stepped back and luckily he remembered the present he had brought her. He had forgotten to give it to her earlier that night and now he hoped that it would make the atmosphere a little bit less personal.

"Mrs. Lovett, I'm not sure this is the right thing to do, but there's something I want you to have. I've been unkind to you in the past and whenever I say something it seems to hurt you, so that's why I brought you this. At least I don't need to say any words for you to understand it."

He took the small book that he had brought earlier from his pocket and handed to her, wondering if it was a good thing or not that her eyes went huge with surprise and her jaw seemed to drop to the floor.

His landlady took the book from his hands and she stared to the front, without bothering to open it, and then looked up at him as if she thought that he was making a joke.

"Is this… for _me_?"

"Yes," he replied, despite the situation bemused by her reaction.

"Mr. T!" she said, obviously in a pleasant sort of shock. "Thank you so much. I can't describe how glad I am that you gave me this. It's been so long ago that someone gave me something and now it's _you_ who…"

"So you like it?" the barber asked quickly, fearing she would say something that somehow would embarrasses both of them again.

"Of course I do!" she replied firmly, as if anything he'd give her was meaningful to her and the gesture was worth more than the present itself.

Slowly she opened the book and looked at the first page; Sweeney Todd saw a glimpse of a foreign forest on it.

Mrs. Lovett herself was smiling happier than ever and she simply radiated with joy because the barber had given her a present.

Sweeney experienced something deep inside of him, which he hadn't felt for a very long time. One second he forgot about the past en just enjoyed the fact he had done something so human. And not just to a random person, but to the woman who had been taking care of him for so long. He had to admit how well this cheerful smile suited her, it made her look so… beautiful.

She looked to page after page, enjoying the paintings on it.

"Thank you so much," she said, while looking up from the book, their eyes locking again.

"You're welcome, Mrs. Lovett."

She stood up and approached him. Intuitively he wanted to step back but he remained standing there, looking into his landlady's warm eyes.

"I really appreciate it," she said softly. "And I want you to know that."

She moved even closer to him and although he knew what was coming, he couldn't stop her; maybe because secretly he didn't _want_ her to stop.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear.

And then, her lips brushed his cheek lightly.

Sweeney Todd closed his eyes, almost enjoying the intimacy of the moment, before they snapped open again, realizing that Mrs. Lovett was doing what only his wife was supposed to do. But he didn't _really_ mind – not this time.

He was about to move his hand to stroke her cheek or rest it on her shoulder (he didn't know which option was the most tempting one) to thank her for the first real sign of affection someone had showed him since all these years, but he stopped himself. Maybe because he didn't want to because of Lucy or because he was quite sure that things could escalate if he gave in to his landlady's touch.

Her lips lingered on his skin for several seconds and when she finally distanced herself from him. He sincerely missed her body being so close to his.

"Thank you, Mrs. Lovett," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Thank _me_? I didn't give you anything!"

"Yes, you did," he answered." Goodnight, Mrs. Lovett."

He left the room, feeling that being longer in her presence would be harder than before and he didn't want to see her curious and comforting eyes; but before he closed the door, he cast one more glance on his landlady.

She was standing in the middle of the room, her hands at her side, clearly not believing what happened. Suddenly he wished he could stay there, just over the threshold, to watch her longer; but he walked back towards his own shop and after arriving there, he sat down in the barber chair.

The silence wasn't enjoyable to him, not after having been in Mrs. Lovett's presence for so long. Reminiscing the past didn't makehim feel better and it frustrated him that

he couldn't remember exactly whatLucy had looked like. He could still feel how Mrs. Lovett's lips caressed his skin. He touched that spot with his hand, like he could recall it that way better.

He should be thinking about the new approach of revenge or about Anthony's attempt to free Johanna or at least, he should _try_ to remember what Lucy looked like. But he didn't think of yellow hair and blue eyes, but of Mrs. Lovett's face – especially her lips. The barber closed his eyes to recall what had happened only days ago, when they kissed for some reason. Although that had happened during a moment of inattention and rage and he wasn't supposed to kiss his landlady in the first place, he could admit now that it had felt very good. It hadn't been a soft and sweet kiss that Benjamin Barker would've liked; the kiss had been passionate instead and perhaps that was the preference of the man he had become.

Sweeney Todd shook his head, unwilling to believe that. Not in a thousand years he could love Mrs. Lovett like he had Lucy.

Yet, his entire being was looking forward to be near Mrs. Lovett again and he didn't realize that he was thinking about his wife as if she was indeed gone.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Now that Mrs. Lovett didn't have to take care anymore of corpses, baking pies was much easier than it had been for months. Toby cleaned the furniture every evening and on very busy days he could help her now in the bake house without seeing things he shouldn't. And because there were no more stained shirts to wash every day, the baker could finally relax a bit every once and a while. But days in the shop were still long, especially since Mr. Todd's customers who survived a visit to the barber shop now, would often come down after their shave to eat a few pies.

Mrs. Lovett's back sill ached. There really seemed to be something wrong with it, but because all other things were going so well, she didn't really worry about it.

Sweeney came down every time he didn't have a customer to shave and it was a pleasure to see the man so often. She had no idea why he was in her shop so many times a day, but his presence was reassuring.

The baker sensed things were changing, maybe not as fast as she hoped, but they certainly did. The barber was still very quiet and he didn't really sleep, but he didn't brood as much as he used to and he wasn't staring off into space as usual.

That evening she went upstairs to Mr. Todd to bring him his dinner and, most of all, discuss the future plans of his barber shop.

"Good evening, Mrs. Lovett," he greeted her when she entered the room.

"Good evening," she replied, happy because he actually noticed her when she arrived.

She placed the tray with food on the trunk that once had contained Pirelli's body and pushed it to the barber chair so Sweeney Todd could remains sitting there while he was eating. He would probably refuse to eat anything, but this way she might persuade him. She had made him some soup; it was getting close to winterand she was sure that some warmth wouldn't harm the barber.

"Thank you," he muttered.

He picked up a spoon from the tray and reluctantly took a little bit of soup. When he swallowed it, his face brightened.

"It's rather nice," he said.

It wasn't much, but Mrs. Lovett smiled because of the sudden compliment she received on her food, for the first time since he had come back.

He ate with much more enthusiasm and Mrs. Lovett watched him with adoration.

"Don't you need to eat?" he asked after a while.

"No, I made this soup for you," she replied.

"Have you eaten something yet?"

"No," she admitted. "I had no time."

"That's ridiculous. Even when you have money, you starve yourself."

"I'll eat later," she said.

"No, you won't, I know you. There's always something you have to do and if you go on like this, you'll faint before you know it."

"Alright, Mr. T, but are you sure…"

"Yes, I am," he said, slightly annoyed.

"I'll go back to the kitchen to…"

"Mrs. Lovett, don't be silly," he said, with almost an amused expression on his face. "There's much more soup here than I can ever eat, why wouldn't you take some of it?"

"Are you sure?" she asked again.

He nodded, impatient again.

"I'll be right back then. I'm just going to get another spoon from…"

"Mrs. Lovett, it's like you don't _want_ to eat. Just come here and sit down."

She did as he asked her, sitting down on the ground on the other side of the trunk, wondering what the barber was planning to do.

"Open your mouth," he grunted while he moved the spoon – _his_ spoon – filling it with soup and moving it towards her mouth.

"But I can't…" the mesmerized baker objected.

He didn't let her finish the sentence, but just pushed the spoon in her mouth.

"Swallow," he commanded.

Once more, she did as he said; she didn't have much of a choice. And actually, it was extremely enjoyable to have dinner like this, how embarrassing it might be that Mr. Todd let her eat like this.

Even when her reluctance to eat his soup was gone, he kept feeding her, but he was eating himself too. Every time he used the spoon himself after she had eaten from it, Mrs. Lovett's cheeks blushed, not believing that she was having such an 'intimate' dinner with the barber.

"It wasn't that bad, huh?" he asked a few minutes later, when they had eaten all the soup.

"Not at all," she said, hoping the barber wouldn't notice her reddened cheeks.

"Do you have any suggestions for the shop?" he asked, to her relief. "I don't know anything about decorations. Lucy was the one who always…"

His speech faltered and Mrs. Lovett was afraid that the current moment, in which Sweeney had been so nice and caring, was over; but after he had blinked a few times, the dangerous glint she hated so much disappeared.

"The room will need to be cleaned thoroughly," the baker said, "I can do that this weekend. I think it's best if you split the place in two, so you have a barber shop and your own room, that'll look more professional. I'm sure the Judge likes that. And you need some things to make it look a bit more organized and yet personal… curtains I think, a new mirror, some lamps… al clock might be good. Talking about time… I've got to go now!"

"What for?" Sweeney Todd asked, almost immediately, surprising her with this quick reaction.

"Toby's lesson! I had promised to teach him the last part of the alphabet today."

"I'm sure we can continue this tomorrow, right?"

"I have to go Mr. T, I'll be back here tomorrow morning. You can think of a way to create some kind of walls so the room is split up in two."

Instead of moving his gaze from her to the huge window in the front of his shop, his eyes remained focused on her, much to Mrs. Lovett's delight.

"Mrs. Lovett, I…"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "I just want to thank you for your help and kindness."

"I think you already did by giving me that present," she smiled, hardly believing she had heard him correctly.

"I just want to let you know that I _really _appreciate it."

He stepped closer to her and, totally unexpectedly, he softly kissed her forehead.

"Thank you," he whispered, his hand gently touching her shoulder.

Despite the soft nature of the touch, the baker shivered violently and she was so overcome by this heavenly surprise that she forgot all around her, including the tray she was holding.

When Mr. Todd moved closer to her and he moved his other hand to her neck, stroking her skin just as carefully as Benjamin Barker probably would've done, everything became too overwhelming. Mrs. Lovett's muscles failed now her entire being was focused on nothing but the barber's presence and she accidentally dropped the tray.

She didn't notice this – until Sweeney Todd grunted in pain.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes, which she had closed apparently, snapped open again. The first thing she saw, was Mr. Todd, who was kneeling on the floor, clearly in pain. Then she saw the tray, which was still lying on his foot. It took her a second to figure out what had happened, but then realization hit her hard.

"Mr. Todd!" she cried. "I'm so sorry, I…"

"It doesn't matter," he managed to say, massaging his sore foot.

"I can't describe how sorry I'm for…"

Tears of frustration welled in her eyes. How could she have ruined the moment like _this_?

She didn't dare to face Sweeney Todd anymore and she went downstairs as quickly as she could, desperate for the privacy of her bedroom.

When she arrived there, she screamed and threw her pillow across the room. This wasn't enough to ease the guilt and hate for herself that she felt and she kicked the wall until her foot hurt as much as Mr. Todd's, wondering all the time why, of all people, this had to happen to _her_.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Sweeney eyed the spoon that was lying in his room, the one that was left by Mrs. Lovett when she went away so suddenly. The pain in his foot was gone, but now he was filled with confusion and shame. It was clear he had invaded Mrs. Lovett's personal space. It had seemed the right thing to do, but her reaction had made clear that he absolutely shouldn't have kissed her forehead.

It had been an impulse, a rash action, that suited Sweeney Todd, but with a tenderness that seemed to have died along with Benjamin Barker. And yet, he had done so because he thought he could thank her that way for all that she had done for him, almost hoping that he could give her the comfort she had given him the day before. But it seemed that he had only scared her and he was afraid that she hated him now. Otherwise she certainly wouldn't have left so fast, even forgetting to take her possessions with her, and she certainly wouldn't have dropped the tray on his foot.

He shouldn't care about it, but he did. Mrs. Lovett's friendship was something he had grown to appreciate the last days. In fact, it had become so important to him that he didn't want to lose it. And besides, her presence that had annoyed him so much at first, made him feel at ease now.

Mrs. Lovett had showed him that there was more, that everything wasn't over, that new things could exist, things beside killing.

Suddenly he didn't like the room anymore and he couldn't stand to be in it any longer. It was too dark, too silent, too impersonal. He wanted to feel warmth and comfort so he finally could relax. He wanted to spend more time with Mrs. Lovett, just because her presence had a calming effect on him.

Without bothering to think about it any longer, he left the barber shop and entered Mrs. Lovett's parlor. She was teaching Toby again. Her back was facing him; all he could really see was the boy, who was so enthusiastic that it was clear Mrs. Lovett was doing a great job teaching him to read and write.

Sweeney closed the door silently and when they still didn't look up because they were both too occupied by their lesson, he sat down on a couch in a dark corner of the room.

His eyes were fixed on Mrs. Lovett's back. A lot of skin beneath her neck was exposed and the dress she was wearing was so tight that he could see her muscles move underneath the fabric. For a moment he thought she had tied her corset too tight again in, but then he noticed she wasn't wearing a corset at all. It looked like she had taken his advice; however, the result bothered him now in a _very_ different way.

Suddenly, she stood up, causing Sweeney to believe she had seen him, but she only walked towards a table on the other side of the room, where she picked up something.

"Look Toby," she said. "This is what I was talking about."

She walked back to the boy and showed him the object. According to the shape of it, it was a small book.

"It's beautiful!" Toby said, when scrutinized the pages.

"It's a present from Mr. Todd," the baker said, pronouncing the words in such a way that even Sweeney heard something special about it – though he couldn't figure out what exactly the tenderness in her voice suggested.

He understood that she considered him as more than just the tenant upstairs, that he had become a friend of her. But more than _that_? He couldn't imagine that he meant to her what his wife had meant to him. Lucy still was the only love of his life and he persuaded himself that the sudden need to be closer to Mrs. Lovett had nothing to do with love. He loved Lucy so damn much, but he couldn't remember the urge to touch his wife had ever been as powerful as what he felt now.

Mrs. Lovett walked back to the table and placed the book back. She did this in a very careful, almost tender way. If Sweeney would've seen that, he might've started to realize her love for him, but all he did was stare at the tight dress and, most of all, the body beneath the fabric.

The strong feelings of desire that went through him so unexpectedly, scared the barber. This was how Judge Turpin must've felt about Lucy. This unexplainable need to be close to someone, to feel that person…

Sweeney suppressed the urge to approach Mrs. Lovett from the darkness, to press her against him and do many things he even hadn't dared to do to Lucy. Not because he hadn't wanted to do that, but because he had been afraid he would hurt his wife that way. But Mrs. Lovett was Mrs. Lovett, and not his wife.

He almost did it, he almost jumped forwards and grasped her arm, taking from her what he wanted at that moment, not caring if Toby would see everything or not.

But at the last moment, he didn't. He left the room as quietly as he had arrived there and then he ran upstairs, away from Mrs. Lovett, but not from the strong feelings he had just experienced.

The desire for her to be more than just his neighbour and a friend scared him thoroughly, even now that he was alone in the cold room. He didn't want to feel what Judge Turpin had felt nor did he want to feel something for another woman, especially not this strong.

Sweeney paced through the room for a few minutes, hoping the sudden desire he felt would fade, but all he could think of was how sensual Mrs. Lovett looked and that she was just in the room beneath his.

He couldn't get his landlady out of his head and he blamed himself for secretly thinking that, in contradiction of his own wife, Mrs. Lovett _was_ available.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he looked in the mirror and stared at his reflection. He hated the lustful glint in his eyes. He was sure this was how the Judge must've looked when he thought of Lucy.

It was unbearable for the barber to think like this about another woman, but he simply _couldn't_ get his landlady out of his head and he desperately tried to think of a way to distract himself from those thoughts.

Sweeney picked up a piece of wood that was supposed to keep the door open during warm summer days. He held it too tightly, so the knuckles of his fingers became ivory white, but he welcomed the uncomfortable feeling willingly.

He stared at the mirror for a few more seconds while he mentally forced himself to think of nothing but his wife.

When this failed even more miserably than he had feared, he just needed something to work it off.

He took a deep breath and before reason could stop him, he hit the mirror as hard as he possibly could. The glass shattered violently and it was a relief that he wasn't confronted with his own reflection anymore.

But it wasn't enough. It turned out to be extremely satisfying to smash things. With all his power, Sweeney hit the already broken mirror again. And again. And again.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

"So Toby, what does it say?" Mrs. Lovett asked the boy, who had a frown on his face from concentration.

"The c… cat is wa…l…"

"Walking," the baker added.

"Walking," Toby repeated proudly.

"Well done boy," she said. "You're learning very fast and…"

Without warning, the silence was disrupted by a loud, but unrecognisable noise.

"What's that?" the young boy whispered.

"I don't know, but it's coming from Mr. Todd's r…"

Before she could finish her sentence, the noise was heard again, louder this time.

"It's time for bed," Mrs. Lovett announced quickly, knowing she had to go to the barber before he hurt himself like he did last time when he was smashing things in his room. She wasn't really sure he was destroying his stuff this time too, but what else could it be?

"But Mum, I…"

"You heard me," Mrs. Lovett replied severely.

Recognizing the warning tone in her voice, Toby went to the couch were he always slept and watched how his adoptive mother hurried outside the room.

Mrs. Lovett almost ran upstairs, wondering what the barber was doing _this _time, and most of all, _why_.

Despite the earlier noise, everything was quiet again when she stood in front of the barber shop. But when she listened carefully before she looked for the barber, she noticed that it wasn't quiet like usual – it was _too_ quiet now.

"Mr. Todd?"

It was completely dark inside the room and even when she opened the door so at least a few beams of light from the few public light in the street could lighten the place, she didn't hear any sound.

Not knowing what to think of it, she stepped carefully into the room to find out what had happened there.

"Mr. Todd?"

Again, no answer.

When she tookanother step, she stepped on something. The breaking sounds she heard when she placed down her foot told her she was standing on pieces of glass. She moved her other foot around, but everywhere around her seemed to be broken glass lying on the floor.

She looked around once more and now that her eyes were adjusted to the darkness, she could see that in three corners of the room was nothing that could possibly Sweeney Todd, so she concluded he was somewhere in the fourth and darkest corner of the room.

Mrs. Lovett walked towards that corner but she tripped over a piece of wood that was lying on the floor. She had to place her hands in front of her to prevent herself from falling on her face and that's how she found the barber.

Her hands must've hit some part of his body that felt like his back, but he didn't move. Carefully she moved her hands in front of her, hoping to find out what was going on exactly, but she could only conclude that the barber was apparently kneeling down in the corner and that his temperature was unusually high.

"Mr. Todd!" she cried out while she shook his shoulders, but he didn't react. Knowing she couldn't do anything without more light, she ran back to her shop and returned with two lit candles.

When she entered the barber shop again, her jaw dropped in shock.

His room as she had known it, didn't exist anymore. Everything – the mirror, the trunk, the barber chair – _everything_ was demolished.

The barber himself was sitting in the same corner as she had left him, staring at something he was holding.

Mrs. Lovett hurried towards him, not trying to avoid stepping on the glass anymore because it was everywhere anyway.

Of course she wanted to know what had happened, but it wasn't any use to ask him, especially not when he was in this state.

Sweeney was holding the frame with the old photo of Lucy and Johanna. No, not holding, he was _clutching_ to it like he would die if he would ever let go. And maybe he really would – mentally, at least.

Mrs. Lovett would've left him holding the only thing of his family that he still possessed, if the glass of the picture frame wouldn't have been broken too. But it was and it pierced the skin of his hands.

"Let it go love," she said softly. "You're hurting yourself."

She tried to take the photograph from him, but he didn't let go, despite the cutting edges of the glass.

"I'll put it on the floor, there you can see it too," she said, almost begging.

She wondered what was wrong _this _time and why he behaved like this, only hours after she had been sure that he wasn't the tormented man anymore who he used to be.

He muttered something so softly that she couldn't it

"What didyou say?" she asked.

Just like she had expected, she didn't get a reaction. He continued mumbling while he stared at the pictures.

His voice became louder and now the baker could hear that he was saying the same sentence over and over again.

"I'm not like him, I'm not like him, I'm not…"

"You're not like whom?" she asked, wondering if the barber was going truly insane after all.

She put a warm hand on his shoulder, hoping the touch would bring him back to reality.

He completely stiffened when her hand reached for him. Even his breath seemed to stop and she was afraid that she had somehow hurt him. But then he shuddered violently, as if her hand was made of ice and threatened to freeze his back.

"I'm not," he muttered through clenched teeth, "like _him_!"

Mrs. Lovett had no idea what he was talking about, but it wasn't her only sorrow: the barber shop looked like it had exploded. Never, _never_ before the demon barber had behaved like _that_.

"I'm not like HIM," he shouted, so loudly that Mrs. Lovett was sure the half of Fleet Street must've heard it.

"Mr. Todd?"

She caressed his shoulder, hoping that he would calm down. But instead, Sweeney jumped on his feet and abruptly pulled her arm from his back.

"Don't let me feel like HIM," he shouted.

"Mr. Todd, I've no idea what…"

He looked at her with eyes that shone with as much hate as before.

"Leave me," he snarled.

The baker should've done so, but she just couldn't now that she had seen how much progress he had made during the past few days.

"Calm down love," she said friendly. "I'm sure we can…"

"Get _out_."

"Mr. T, I…"

"GET OUT!"

The tone of his voice made her realize that it was useless to try to calm him down. She did a few steps to leave, but before she left, she looked at him once more, not wanting to leave him again.

When they looked at each other, she somehow got lost in his eyes. Not because they shone with love or adoration, but because there was an incredibly eerie glance in it. She had seen it before: he looked exactly the same way when he had killed another customer.

Sweeney moved forward to her and she saw it coming, but she was temporarily paralyzed. She couldn't move, she couldn't defend herself, she couldn't even blink her eyes so she at least wouldn't have to _see_ it.

It seemed to last for minutes, but in reality it only took him a fraction of a second to step closer to her and form a fist of his hand.

Her entire system blocked down completely. The petite baker didn't even _feel_ it when his knuckles hit her jaw powerfully. She heavily fell on the ground, but her mind didn't register it.

Only when she looked up again and he towered over her, she found control over her body again. She moved away from him, not noticing that the barber didn't even look at her. He kept muttering to himself and it looked like he would leave her alone now, but Mrs. Lovett had just lost one of the last few certainties in her life.

Before he could hurt her again, she managed to get on her feet and she ran downstairs as fast as she could. She locked the pie shop and hid the keys in a pocket of her dress. Then the baker retreated to her bedroom; she trembled with fear and was unable of believing what just had happened. But there was no use denying to herself that the man she loved so much had hurt her on purpose.

She lay down on her bed, feeling horribly unsafe because her bedroom didn't have a lock since the barber had destroyed it and she wished there was something huge and indestructible wall between her and Sweeney Todd. That man from upstairs was willing to do the most horrible things and suddenly she felt he couldn't be far enough away from her.

Mrs. Lovett had always been the only one who didn't fear the demon barber. Every normal person, who didn't even knew one single part of the truth about 'Sweeney Todd', intuitively felt there was something wrong with the man who lived above the pie shop. Mrs. Lovett, the only one who knew what was exactly going on in his barber shop, had never really feared him, not even when he yelled at her or placed a razor against her throat. But right now, she was scared to death. For the first time in her life, she was afraid of Benjamin Barker. Or rather, what was left of him.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

At first, Sweeney Todd felt better. It had been good to hurt Mrs. Lovett. He had to punish her after all for tempting him the way she did, tempting him to betray his Lucy, to behave like an animal like Judge Turpin.

Her fear had satisfied him, just like the way it had when his hand hit her blushing cheek. But while he kept pacing through the room, not caring that he'd keep her awake (she wouldn't sleep anyway), the feeling faded.

When the hours passed, Sweeney felt worse and worse. The room he had lived in was destroyed. His hands were pierced by the glass of the photograph frame and cut by the sharp pieces of the wood he had used to hit everything. The pictures of Lucy and Johanna were covered in blood. Now the last few miserable things he had owned were gone too. And as if it wasn't enough yet, he had lost Mrs. Lovett as well.

He had read fear in her eyes and at the moment he had hit her, he had _enjoyed_ it. She looked exactly like the men in his barber chair as they realized at the very last moment that they would die within seconds.

There was no excuse for the barber's behavior towards her, though he tried to tell himself that it was her own fault.

Slowly, it got light outside and the first rays of sunlight shone into the room, pointing out the absolute chaos both within and around him just a little bit more.

Blood kept dripping from his hands on the floor, but he didn't care. Mrs. Lovett would've helped him, but not anymore.

The barber shook his head, wondering when (and if) the misery would ever end. He truly had felt better the last few days, mostly because of his landlady. He didn't know why she made him feel like that. Maybe because he hadn't touched a woman for so long, or because she was the only one who was friendly to him?

However, it was ruined now. And it was his fault. Or better, Turpin's. If the Judge hadn't lusted after Lucy (like he now did himself over Mrs. Lovett), then none of this would've happened – his family would still be his in the first place.

Sweeney once more kicked out some of his frustration against a wall.

He sincerely wished he had the courage to walk to Turpin's home, rang the bell, told some nonsense to one of the servants so he could get in the house. Then he would just stab the demon, the _real _demon, even though he didn't live at Fleet Street.

But the truth was, the barber didn't dare to. He'd get caught; he'd be tortured; it'd be worse than his banishment, because the guards would have a real reason to punish him if he actually killed a Judge. The murder needed to be done in secret, just like he had killed the other customers the in last few months. He thought of his previous plan to lure the judge to his shop by his mere reputation as the best barber in town. If only it could work, if only he had been able to control himself…

It would've been so easy to go to the nearest bar and get so drunk that he'd never wake up again, but even he wasn't able to do _that_. So he just kept standing there, motionless, and in his head all the events from the previous months seemed to repeat itself like a film. It was obvious that Mrs. Lovett played a huge part in it.

During those long and silent hours he allowed himself to think of his landlady. _Really_ think of her, like he had never done before.

It dawned on him that Mrs. Lovett was the one who has always been there to help him, no matter what he did to her. She had always been there, but not anymore.

Deep inside, in a part of his body that he didn't think existed anymore, he felt a certain emotion he hadn't felt for a very long time.

It was a shock to him to find out that he actually cared for the baker. She was the one who had kept him going all this time, the woman who risked so much by helping him.

Only now he realized that he knew hardly anything about her. They lived in the same building for years, but he didn't recall he had ever had an actual conversation with her. Now he thought about it, he didn't even know her first name. He had always called her 'Mrs. Lovett', nothing more than that; he had never called her anything more personal.

Slowly, very slowly, the night turned into day and the chaos around him became visible. The wounds in his hands didn't bleed anymore, but they still hurt. He couldn't care about it; he was sure that he had deserved it. He had destroyed everything he had, from the barber chair (which was damaged beyond repair) to his special bond with Mrs. Lovett. He would have to start all over again. He would have to create something out of nothing.

Sweeney tore a shirt in pieces and bandaged his hands with it. He suppressed the thought that Mrs. Lovett could do that much better than he did, and much more tenderly.

Then he went outside to pick up the broom he had seen there, which was probably left there by Toby the previous day.

The barber removed all the glass, wood and other mess from the room and then he eyed the interior critically. There was absolutely nothing left. And after what he had done to Mrs. Lovett, he knew he just couldn't stay here.

He would have to start all over again, without a single penny and without a barber shop. But he had been in a position like this before, about 25 years ago, when both his parents had died within months of each other. Back then, he had even less and still, he had survived.

He had become an apprentice of a local barber and within years he had been one of the best barbers in London.

Right now, Sweeney was as helpless as then, but there was a difference. He had his friends with him and he already was the best barber in town - he just needed to prove it.

Something like a small smile reached his face when he considered this new plan. He would make himself known as the barber that was _so _good and thus so famous, that even important people would want to come for a shave. He could make enough money to buy a barber shop of his own that would be so miraculous, that even Judge Turpin would feel to go there. But most of all, he just needed to go away to _think._ Not about the things he had been brooding about in the past, but about the only source of friendliness in his world. Sweeney didn't understand or exactly know why, but he felt he had not only hurt Mrs. Lovett in a physical way, but mentally too.

He looked around the room one last time. It was completely empty; except for one thing. All what was left, were the photographs of Lucy and Johanna, with a few stains of his blood on them.

Carefully, almost tenderly, he kissed the back of the photographs before he hid them beneath the floor along with the razors that he didn't need.

Half a minute later he left the room, armed with nothing but two razors and the knowledge that he would never return.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Although Mrs. Lovett didn't have to work all night long anymore because she didn't have to clean shirts and bake corpses into pies, she didn't sleep that night, not at all.

The events from only a few hours ago were repeated in her head over again and over again.

The realization that the barber had hit her echoed in her head all night as if it were some kind of bizarre song. She could still feel the barber's cold fist on her jaw. How ironic it was. _Finally_ he had touched her and it had been like _this._

A desperate sob went through her entire body and she hid her face in her pillow so she wouldn't wake Toby with her crying.

Minutes turned into hours, but the baker didn't calm down. She didn't want to believe that the barber had actually hurt her. She had told herself all this time that Sweeney Todd was a good man, but now she realized she had been lying to herself; he had only used her to get what he wanted: a free room and a free worker.

Suddenly, she hated him and she loathed herself because she had always believed so strongly that things would change and here she was, alone, crying, the red imprints of his knuckles on her face.

The night seemed to last for an eternity, but finally the dawn broke. Mrs. Lovett had no idea what she would do if she saw Sweeney, but she presumed she would run away if he came near to her again.

She went to Toby, who was awake already, and asked him to prepare breakfast. She tried to behave as she always did, but the boy noticed that something was wrong with her.

"Mum?" he asked, concerned, when he saw her eyes, which were still red from crying, and the dark circles around them. "What has happened to you?"

"Nothing," she lied, not in a convincing way.

"It has to do with Mr. Todd, hasn't it?"

"No of course not, how can you even think that…"

When the baker saw Toby's rolling eyes, she sighed.

"Well, alright… Mr. T and I had a quarrel and I'm quite upset because of that."

"Is that the reason that Mr. Todd left?"

"What did you say?" she asked, thinking she misheard his question.

"I asked: 'Is that the reason that Mr. Todd left?'"

"Did he _leave_," she asked, bewildered, ignoring the boy's question.

"I think so."

"How do you know that… how, and when?"

"Half an hour ago. He tried to open the door of the shop, but it was still closed. The sound woke me, but I pretended to be still asleep, to find out what he was doing. I could just see him from the couch. Mr. Todd turned around and walked away, but not in the direction of his room. I thought it was all very odd. So I went to the pie shop to check if he was really leaving, because it looked like that. When he was at the end of the street, or at least at the corner, he looked back once. I hid myself behind the curtains so he wouldn't see me and when I looked up again, he was gone."

Mrs. Lovett's stared through the window where Toby had seen Sweeney leaving only half an hour ago. She was relieved and actually hoped that the barber wouldn't come back but at the same time, it felt like he had taken a huge part of her heart with him when he went away.

"It's alright boy," she said, to her own surprise managing to feign a smile. "Can you make me some breakfast?"

"Of course Mum," he replied and, after casting one more worried glance on her, he disappeared into the kitchen to get bread and butter there.

Mrs. Lovett unlocked the door of her shop and went to the room where Sweeney Todd had lived until very recently. With mixed feelings she opened the door of the barber shop.

To her surprise, it was completely empty. She had expected it to be such a mess as it had been last night, or maybe even worse.

It would've been easier for her if he just would've gone away without bothering to clean; now it was impossible for her to hate him as she wanted to do and she felt a tiny bit of sympathy for him.

She walked towards the middle of the room and sat down next to the loose piece of the floor. For a few seconds she closed her eyes, imaging it was still one of those days

before the barber's return from his banishment, when she had sat there so often, pretending that Benjamin would come home one day to declare his love for her. The barber _had_ come home, but how different it had been from her dreams.

Just like then, she carefully opened the hidden space beneath the floor, as if she thus could recall clearer those days in which she still had felt some hope.

To her bewilderment, the box with the razors was still there, as if it had never been from its place. She didn't really dare to take it from the secret space; only when she realized the barber wasn't there anymore to kill her for touching his razors, she carefully opened the box and peeked inside.

Two of the razors were missing; if she remembered correctly, this were his favorite ones which he had always carried with him, wherever he went.

When she was about to place the box back, Mrs. Lovett noticed something else. On the bottom of the space beneath the floor, lay the pictures of the barber's wife and child, one of his most beloved possessions and basically the only thing that was left of his stolen family.

The baker wondered what it meant that Mr. Todd hadn't taken those with him and for a few seconds she considered the situation.

Then Toby called to her to announce that breakfast was ready and she returned to her living room while she was trying to figure out what she was exactly feeling for the barber. She couldn't even tell if she 'just' hated Sweeney Todd or that there was still something more than that.

During breakfast it became clear that Toby would do everything he could to cheer Mrs. Lovett up and distract her from worrying about the barber. The young boy was even nicer and more polite to the baker than usual. Mrs. Lovett first disliked this attempt to happiness, but Toby's cheerfulness did make her feel better and after a while, she didn't think about Sweeney as much anymore as before.

For some reason she was rather sure that he wouldn't return and that he wouldn't threaten her anymore. The fact that he had cleaned his room thoroughly made her believe that it was his last gesture of kindness to her and maybe even an apologize for his behavior or a way of telling her that he wouldn't hurt her again and that she didn't have to be afraid of him anymore.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Sweeney wandered aimlessly through the streets of London until the city and its inhabitants wakened from the night. Around eight o'clock, more and more people appeared on the streets, heading for their work or a shop to buy something to eat. Some of the customers were looking for a barber too and those were the men Mr. Todd was interested in. In exchange for his services, he hoped to make some money, for except for his razors and clothes, he had absolutely nothing with him and he didn't really know how he could get himself a much needed barber shop. However, his top priority was to find something to eat now. Running back to Mrs. Lovett wasn't an option anymore.

It was bizarre for him to realize, but he really regretted that he had hit his landlady, especially because she hadn't _deserved_ it. Yes, he had tempted him to betray his wife, but _he _was the one who had approved; he had even _encouraged_ her sometimes, subconsciously longing for comfort and kindness. He hadn't had the right to slap her, she couldn't help it after all that he felt a certain attraction towards her, just like Lucy couldn't help that the Judge had fancied her.

Only a few hours ago the barber had been sure that he would never return to the pie shop (or rather, to Mrs. Lovett), but now he started to doubt it. Surviving with hardly any food or a bed to sleep wasn't the worst part – he had been through that before – but the idea that he wouldn't have only to miss his Lucy and Johanna, but his landlady's kindness too…

But if he would find a shop near Fleet Street or near the market, he would at least have the change to see her every once and a while. _Looking_ at her wasn't a crime after all and it was not that he wanted to do _more_ than that…

Sweeney shook his head in disbelief, angry with himself because the desire to do more than just _looking_ was still in his body. Telling himself one more time that it was wrong because he was married and Mrs. Lovett didn't belong to him, he walked towards the market, where merchants were preparing themselves for a long day of trade and negotiation.

Quite soon, Sweeney spotted a rather rich-looking man who was placing his goods in his stand and who clearly was in need of a shave.

Five minutes later, the barber was eating a piece of bread that he had bought with the money the merchant had given him in return for the shave. The rest of the money was saved securely in a pocket of his jacket and Sweeney realized he could make enough money with this business to buy his own place after a while. All he needed was a stand of his own on the market to start his work..

But while he walked over the market, it became clear to him that this could become a problem since every inch of it that was supposed to contain stands, was already taken.

He couldn't simply _start _his own outdoor shop – Sweeney realized he had to _conquer_ one.

His eyes fell on one of the other barbers, clearly one that wasn't popular and thus wouldn't be missed. Sweeney smiled, knowing he had found the solution for his problem already.

"Good day sir," he spoke as he approached the other barber, feigning a smile. "I'm sorry to bother you so suddenly, but I heard you are the best barber in town."

The other barber, a bald man in his late forties, nodded like he heard this everyday, his arrogant eyes scrutinizing the stranger in front of him.

"My master sent me to you to ask you to visit him at his home this morning. He is ill, so he is incapable of coming here himself, but he speaks very highly of you. He wishes to be shaven 'properly', as he put it. That's why he requires your services at his own home."

"And why should I come to that master of yours?" the other man snarled. "You didn't even tell me who he is and besides, there is a lot of money to make here today. If you come back tomorrow and ask again, I might consider it."

"I beg you pardon," Sweeney interrupted. "Although my master is very rich, he doesn't like to show off his wealth. However, if you do him the honor of coming to his house this morning, you'll be generously rewarded"

Mr. Todd opened his pocket lightly, allowing the other barber to see the money that Sweeney had made earlier that day, as if it was part of the payment for the other man.

Luckily, the sight of the coins was enough to persuade the barber. Without asking for any more information, he ordered one of his apprentices to take care of the first customers of that day in his absence.

The barber followed Mr. Todd from the market. Sweeney headed towards a dark alley that even at this time of the day was abandoned and would remain so until the darkest hours of the night, when murderers and thieves gathered there.

The other barber kept following Sweeney, driven by the promise of fame and a lot of money. Only when they were almost halfway the alley, the other man became uncomfortable.

"It seems you are lost, good sir," he spoke. "I highly doubt your master lives here."

"Indeed, he does not," Sweeney replied smoothly. "I know this is a horrible place, but my master can be very impatient and this _is_ the shortest way to his manor."

"If you say so…" the bald man answered.

They continued walking, their speed slow because of all the garbage that was 'stored' on the cobblestones and while doing so, Sweeney reached for one of his friends, that was in the holster at his belt.

When he and the other man tried to find their way through the darkest part of the alley, Sweeney turned around quickly and cut the throat of the other barber, who was still walking behind him, with one fluid movement and immediately after that, he jumped backwards, to make sure the blood of the man wouldn't stain his clothes.

Mrs. Lovett wasn't there to clean them anymore, after all.

At the sudden memory of the baker, a strange sensation went through Sweeney's system and for a few seconds, he totally forgot about the murder he had just committed now that he felt in a way he hadn't done for fifteen years.

The adrenaline that rushed through his body and his rapidly beating heart seemed to be caused more by Mrs. Lovett than the actual murder.

But while Sweeney pushed the corpse aside, he forced the thoughts of his former landlady out of his head too.

Mr. Todd stole the purse from the man who was now lying dead on the ground and he stepped over the body to return to the market as if nothing had happened.

Sweeney headed back towards the stand that the murdered barber had owned. The three apprentices who had worked for that man, looked expectantly at Sweeney when he summoned them around him.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this boys, but your master won't work here anymore; he's the personal barber now of a lord outside town. He has ordered me to take care of his business here while he is away."

Two of the three young people in front of him eyed their new master with raised eyebrows; it was impossible to say if they doubted the barber's words or that they were looking for a way to profit from the new situation. The third boy however, who was clearly younger than the other two, looked at the barber timidly; he obviously didn't know how to react to the sudden change.

Sweeney took some of the money he had stolen from the previous owner and handed a few pennies to each of the three boys.

"You can go now if you want to, but you can decide to stay here too. If you do so and work for me, you will be paid this much every day."

The two older boys looked at each other, grinning excitedly, and they nodded to show they approved. The other boy copied their reply and together with the two others he waited for new orders.

"Well, go on," Sweeney said, "go tell all those people the best barber in London is here today!"

Neither of the boys needed any more encouragement and while Mr. Todd made himself familiar with the stand, which was much like the one that Pirelli had owned, the boys, who where now more this advertisers than his apprentices, spread over the market to inform all the people there loudly about the arrival of the finest barber in London.

While the first customer made his way to the newly conquered stand, the barber allowed himself a small smile.

This far, everything was going well.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

At first, Mrs. Lovett was completely confused because of Mr. Todd's disappearance. She was glad that he was gone, for she hadn't forgotten the fact that he had hit her; but at the same time she missed him so much that together with him, an essential part of her life seemed to be gone too.

However, when she hadn't seen him for five days, her inner turmoil was soothed slowly. Before the barber had returned to London, she had been alone for almost a decade, but now she had an adoptive soon to look after and hundreds of customers to feed a day. She found out that she hardly had the time to think about Sweeney Todd during the day, let alone miss him.

But the pain in her heart that was caused by his departure never stopped nagging, especially not at those moment she had no work to do for a few minutes.

The fact that she hadn't heard anything about him since he was gone, worried her a bit because she had simply no idea where he was. Even though he had become what he was, he _was_ still Benjamin Barker, only if it was for a very little bit, and she didn't want him to end up like a corpse in a dirty street or an equally horrible fate.

But she didn't have to be afraid for Mr. Todd's unexpected changes of mood anymore and she didn't have to fool herself anymore for she _knew_ now that he didn't want her and no matter how much that hurt, she knew the truth now and she could try to continue living again. She didn't have to do all the horribly bloody work anymore and Judge Turpin wasn't her problem anymore.

It was hard enough for her to serve to all those hungry customers; she was thinking of taking another boy in to help her in the shop now that Toby and she couldn't handle the success on their own anymore. She seemed to be always in a hurry, thus not leaving her any time to think, but yet…

Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night, because it was so _quiet_ now that there was no one pacing in the room above hers. It had even happened that she woke up because she thought there was someone watching her from the darkness, like Sweeney had done so many weeks ago. But after a few seconds she always realized that it was impossible, that he would never be in her shop again, let alone in her bedroom.

This afternoon, a man had approached her to ask if he could rent the room above hers. Now that her shop was so popular, people didn't seem to care anymore if it was haunted or not. Although she was quite sure that Sweeney would never live above her anymore, she said automatically 'no' to the man's offer, even if he named a rather generous price that he was willing to pay for the room.

Six days after Mr. Todd had left, Mrs. Lovett went to the market, like she did every few days, to shop for food and special ingredients for her pies which she couldn't order at one of the local butcher shops.

When she was at the market, accompanied by Toby, who carried her purchases for her, she scanned the goods that the merchant offered with the eyes of the professional baker she was. She had always enjoyed to 'hunt' for low prices or small and extraordinary knickknacks and today was no exception. She had already found a simple, but very pretty necklace that she simply wanted to have now that she could finally afford it and when a few beams of sunlight peeked through the dark clouds, she was in even higher spirits.

When something was shining in her eyes, Mrs. Lovett looked up automatically to see what it was and a second later she found herself staring at the reflection of the sun in a razor. Or rather, the man who was holding the knife.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. She recognized him, even though his back was facing her – of course she recognized him. His back itself could almost tell stories of its own after all.

The baker couldn't help but standing still on the middle of the market and stare at the barber who started shaving another man at the very moment; fascinated she watched how the shining silver touched the man's throat again and again.

Mrs. Lovett subconsciously held her breath when the shave was almost done, remembering what usually happened at this point.

It was a shock to her to see that Sweeney actually finished the work without killing the man, or even cause one little scratch on the man's flawless skin.

"Mum?"

Mrs. Lovett looked mesmerized at Toby, as if it was a total surprise to see the boy there. She realized that she had forgotten all around her when she was watching her former tenant.

"What's wrong?" the boy asked her.

"Nothing love. I just thought that I saw someone familiar, but…"

Her gaze drifted back to the barber who was talking to another customer now. She could see his face and even from the place where she was standing, she could tell there had changed something in his eyes. They were not as dead and empty as usual, and they looked more like…

Mrs. Lovett shook her head, forcing herself not to think about it. Sweeney Todd had nothing to do with her anymore and she shouldn't pretend like she was still important to him.

Besides, she didn't even want him to see her. Last time he had laid his eyes on her, that had resulted in a fist against her jaw and she didn't even dare to _think_ of what would happen if she'd approach him now. Besides, it was clear that he didn't need her help anymore; there were numerous men around him waiting for a shave and according to the way they were dressed, they were wealthy and paid well. No, Sweeney Todd didn't need her help anymore and was support not the one and only reason that the barber had stayed with her all that time?

Mrs. Lovett noticed that there were a few boys walking around the barber's shop, who were talking to the people who walked by. It surprised her that the barber had kids working for him, since the man had never liked Toby, who had lived pretty much the same life as the boys who were walking around Sweeney's stand now. They didn't seem to be terrorized by the barber; he even didn't seem to really pay attention to them, unlike the way Pirelli had 'taken care' of Toby.

Only then she realized the latter was gone; only when she blinked a few times, she saw him standing at the next stand already, negotiating with the merchant like she had taught him to do.

She secretly turned her head into Sweeney's direction once more. It almost seemed like he had changed, like he was more like the man once he once had been: he was even having an actual conversation with one of his customers.

But when the next customer apparently made a very rude innuendo about a beautiful looking girl with yellow hair who was walking on the market, Mrs. Lovett could almost feel the barber's urge to cut a throat once more and the hate within the barber's being was just as undeniable as ever.

She sighed when fear dominated the fondness for him again in her heart. He was none of her business anymore; she was safe for his unpredictability now and thus for vengeance and she'd better keep it like that.

Mrs. Lovett made her way from the market, making sure that Toby wouldn't see Sweeney Todd. Thus she was unaware of a pair of dark eyes which followed all her movements.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Sweeney Todd, who was becoming known as the best barber in London, was doing good business. Within a few days he was accepted on the market and every day more customers found their way to his stand. The Judge hadn't come yet, but Sweeney was sure he would do so soon. The barber didn't know what he would do if Turpin was in the chair, but Sweeney was sure he would think of a way to kill him in the near future. He probably would have to let the Judge go if he came to his stand anyway, since he couldn't simply murder one of the most well known and important man of Fleet Street in public.

He was making quite a lot of money and except for some food, the salary for the boys who worked for him and the rent of his new room, he didn't buy anything and if he would be able to save as money as he did now, Mr. Todd presumed he would be able to buy his own establishment within a month. That was quite some time, but it was better than nothing and he found some comfort in the thought that he was looking after himself now so he didn't have to be dependent of Mrs. Lovett's help anymore.

The barber had found a new place to spend the night. One of his first new customers had offered him to rent a room at his house when he had found out that the talented barber didn't have anything except for his little stand. The house was too big for the elderly man and his wife now that his grown-up children didn't live there anymore and some extra money was always welcome, so the friendly man had given the room in the attic to Sweeney.

Mr. Todd was glad because of this: never again did he want to live in the open air like in Australia, especially not in London where it was colder and much filthier.

His new place to spend the night was so much smaller than his room in Mrs. Lovett's house, but that wasn't the only reason why he preferred his old home. Although the customer's wife was friendly to him, she was in no way like his previous landlady, not in her behavior nor in her looks.

The barber had presumed only a few hours after he had left her pie shop that he would grow to miss the baker, but this was worse. There was an empty feeling in his chest, in a place that he would've called his heart fifteen years ago, and the longer he was away from Mrs. Lovett, the more this started to bother him.

The main reason he wanted to go back to his old shop was _not_ because he had the privacy there to kill the Judge, but because Mrs. Lovett would then be close to him again.

Yes, Mrs. Lovett. Only now, he realized that he even didn't know her first name. He had probably heard it numerous times, but he had never cared to remember it and

suddenly, that seemed very odd and wrong. He had known her for such a long time and hardly knew her and he didn't even know a lot _about_ her, except for the facts that she had a pie shop and that she was widow. He didn't even know the exact color of her eyes or hair; he had never really _looked_ at her.

Sweeney's mind snapped back to his work when another customer greeted him. He had seen the man before; he came for a shave almost every day.

"And how are you today, Mr. Todd?"

The barber sighed, wondering why customers _always_ started a conversation.

But when he gave the man a closer look, he realized he looked quite friendly and that it wouldn't be _that_ bad to talk to someone for a while.

"I'm fine," Mr. Todd said; it was not an entirely truthfully answer, but for a change, he felt like talking for a while. "And you, Mr…?"

"Johnson is the name, " the other man said, "David Johnson."

"Same as usual, Mr. Johnson?"

David nodded and Sweeney started to shave, but this time, he didn't refuse to talk during the work like usual.

"So, Mr. Johnson, I presume you returned from your work?"

"Yes, certainly. I'm a blacksmith and I just finished an order for a gentleman from outside town. When you are done, I'll go to the bakery here to buy something nice for my wife. Today, it's ten years ago that we met and I don't want to let that go by unnoticed."

"Will you go to Mrs. Lovett's shop?" Sweeney asked, feeling this was his change to find out more about his former landlady.

"No, unfortunately not," Mr. Johnson said. "It's too far away from here; I wish to return home as soon as possible to celebrate our anniversary. Even Mrs. Lovett's company isn't as pleasant as my wife's."

Mr. Todd raised an eyebrow, because this seemed to be the right moment to learn more about the baker indeed.

"It sounds like you've known Mrs. Lovett for quite some time," Sweeney said, trying to let David Johnson talk about the pie baker instead of his own wife.

"Oh yes. I think I've known Nellie Lovett since her husband and she opened their pie shop; that must've been more than twenty years ago. A very friendly woman she is, always willing to chat for a while or support you when things aren't going well. Yes, she's a special woman. Have you ever had the pleasure of meeting her?"

Sweeney wanted to answer, but instead, he was confronted with memories of their passionate encounter, more than a month ago.

_She was yelling at him, but all he was paying attention to was her mouth, which he wanted to kiss for a reason that wasn't clear to him._

"Well," he managed to say, "I…"

_He stepped closer to her, watching how she stepped back but didn't stop shouting, before he muted her by covering her lips with his. _

"No," Sweeney lied. "I never met her."

_Her hands were tangled in his hair and her chest was against his._

"Are you alright sir?"

_Nellie. Her first name is Nellie_.

"Yes," the barber said, lying again. "I'm fine."

"Good," David replied, "I remember when I visited her shop, many years ago, when…"

Mr. Johnson kept talking, but Sweeney's mind was elsewhere.

_When he had pushed her against the wall, he had felt through her clothes how soft her sides were._

The realization that he really missed the baker, hit him hard. He missed her intensely. Not because she looked after him and because she was his partner in crime, but because he had grown fond of her in the most unexpected way.

_She moaned his name into his mouth while her fingers dug into his shoulder._

Sweeney realized he hadn't thought about his wife anymore for quite some time; Mrs. Lovett was the only one who was on his mind. Was there really the possibility that his

landlady has been right when she had said to him once that time heals all wounds, even the deepest ones?

_She managed to wrap her legs around him and pull him even closer to her, never breaking the kiss._

Sweeney shivered with desire, and accidentally he almost cut David's throat. Luckily, the man was focused so much on talking about his wife, that he didn't notice.

When the calmness of the man's voice eased the barber's imagination, Mr. Todd began to wonder why Mrs. Lovett cared so much for him anyway and why she had always been so kind and supportive since the moment he was back in her shop, even though he had behaved very ungrateful and even rude towards her.

David Johnson's shave was completed and after Sweeney had given the man his change, another customer sat down in the barber chair.

Mr. Todd's mood, that had improved because of the friendliness of Mr. Johnson and the memories of Mrs. Lovett, snapped back to anger when the new customer offended a yellow-haired girl who was shopping on the market.

But before his urge to murder this despicable man became unbearable, someone else caught his attention.

_Mrs. Lovett._

He recognized her immediately, even though she was among so many other people. His eyes followed all her movements when she slowly moved away from him. He didn't want her to go away; he wanted her to come closer to him so he could watch her, scrutinize her like he should've done before, give her the attention she deserved.

Despite the fact she was out of his view, he knew he couldn't concentrate on his work anymore.

He ordered the three boys around him to announce that he would close for the rest of the afternoon. The man whose throat Sweeney had been about to cut, was still sitting in the chair, his face shaven for less than fifty percent, was about to protest, but he shut up when he saw the fire in the barber's eyes.

Sweeney retreated to the house where he stayed and counted the money he had hidden there beneath a loose plank of the floor. Very Mrs. Lovett-ish, but he didn't think of that when he frantically counted the pennies and pounds he had saved. It was not enough to buy his own establishment, but it should be enough to hire the room above Mrs. Lovett's shop.

If he would apologize for his behavior from the past and if he would pay her instead of continuing to abuse her hospitality, he hoped that he could persuade her to let him stay in the room again. That way, he would have the safe place he needed to murder the Judge _and _he would be close to Mrs. Lovett again, which was almost equally important to him now.

One minute later, Sweeney was outside, the money hidden underneath his clothes, heading back to Fleet Street – and to Mrs. Lovett.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Mrs. Lovett heard him before she saw him. She was sitting in her parlor when someone walked through her shop, where no one was supposed to be now that it was evening.

"You're back!" Toby shouted, his work interrupted by the sudden arrival.

"Yes, I'm back," Sweeney Todd snarled. "Step aside."

"You know I won't do that," Toby spoke, intuitively blocking the way between the barber and the entrance to the baker's parlor.

"Don't you even think about it," the barber threatened. "You know what happened last time when you tried to stop me. You need to learn that boys like you shouldn't interfere in the lives of adults."

"You can say what you want, _sir_," Toby said bravely, "but I won't allow you to hurt my mum again."

"Did she say that to you? Did I _hurt_ her?" Sweeney asked; for the first time there was something like hesitation and regret in his voice.

"She didn't admit it, but you should've seen how upset she was."

While Mrs. Lovett listened from her living room to the conversation that was going on in the pie shop, she experienced a horrible deja-vu. Only a few weeks ago Sweeney had invaded the room the exact same way, beating Toby in the process. He hadn't hurt _her_, he had kissed her instead, but only one day later he _had_ slapped her. Now he was in her shop again, willing to fight his way to her to do… whatever he had in that crazy mind of his this time. No matter what he was thinking of, it couldn't be good. But this time, she wouldn't allow the barber to hurt the innocent boy who was putting himself at risk to protect her.

Mrs. Lovett stood up from the couch and walked towards the shop.

Sweeney's eyes widened when he saw her, causing Mrs. Lovett to fear the worst.

"Here I am, Mr. Todd," she said, managing to sound casual. "No reason to threaten anyone."

The barber eyed her numerous times from top to toe, which made her feel very uncomfortable.

"What do you want?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"I… I want to speak to you," he said while staring at her intensely.

Mrs. Lovett tried to keep the eye contact, but after a few seconds, she looked down at the floor, unable to see his burning eyes one more moment.

"In private," he added when his eyes flickered from her to Toby for a second.

"Alright," she answered, her voice trembling now. "If you think it's necessary…"

"Yes, it certainly is."

Gesturing to Toby to let the barber pass, Mrs. Lovett opened the door to the parlor and let Sweeney enter. She closed the door behind her once she was in the room too, feeling Sweeney's eyes staring at her back and making her feel even more nervous.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'd like to have my room back."

She stared at him, not believing that she heard this correctly.

"What!?"

"I want to live in this building again."

Even after a few more seconds, she didn't know how to react to this completely unexpected and illogical request. But then, anger started to rise within her.

"What do you expect me to say?" she asked loudly, not giving him the chance to actually reply. "First, you hit me. Then, you smash _everything_ in the room and you leave me without saying _one single word_. And now you expect me to give you that room again, as if nothing has happened and as if I don't want a _normal _person to live there?!"

"I can pay," he simply said. "And I owe you an apology for what I did to you. You've got no idea how much I regret…"

But Mrs. Lovett didn't really hear him. She finally had a chance to throw all her frustrations at his feet and she was determined to take it.

"So you think it's about money?" she yelled. "You think I did what I did because I hoped that you would pay me for it some day? Well, think again. You'll never understand that I looked after you all this time for a reason that hasn't got anything to do with money, but with something much more important. But it's over now, you've gone too far. My life is going back to how it's supposed to be and I won't let you dominate me like you used to do. I refuse to be the person again who gets rid of the complete mess you manage to create every day!"

"Mrs. Lovett, I _need_ to have this room back," Sweeney said, his eyes begging her. "Please."

But Mrs. Lovett didn't even look at him and thus she didn't notice the pain which was visible in his eyes. She did realize how unusual it was for him actually ask for something in a polite way, but she presumed it was just another trick, another attempt to deceive her.

"Please, give me another change," he begged her. "I'll try to be a better tenant; I won't kill anyone except for the Judge and the Beadle. I'll look after Toby if you want me to, I'll help you baking pies and the work in the shop when I'm done working myself, I'll do everything to…"

"Get out," she said, as powerfully as she could.

Now it was _she_ who was commanding and it felt damn good, especially because Sweeney actually obeyed, just like she had done for too long. He walked back, towards the door, looking hurt, almost vulnerable.

"This is what it feels like," she muttered embittered, softly enough for him not to hear it.

He had always treated her like this and she had always accepted that, but not anymore and this was the perfect opportunity to prove it.

She headed for the bookshelf, realizing she wanted to give him the book back he had given to her, so there would be nothing left in her house that reminded her of him.

"Nellie."

She stopped dead in her tracks when the demon barber addressed her with her first name, something which he had never done before. It meant a lot to her, but she didn't show it for it was probably just another one of his tricks to manipulate her.

"There's no place for you here anymore, Mr. Todd, unless you have something to offer that's better than money."

The barber stood silent, his back facing her, but for Mrs. Lovett it wasn't hard to guess what was going through his mind. He was trying to think of a way to persuade her to give him permission to stay in the room above her shop again, but she was sure of one thing: never again she would allow him to control her life in the horribly disrespectful way he had done for months and _never_ would he understand the deeper meaning if the cryptic remark she had made.

And thus, she felt mostly relief when a defeated Mr. Todd slowly left the parlor.

When he was out of the shop, Mrs. Lovett sneaked in the room he just had left to see how he walked at Fleet Street, probably back to wherever he came from. Every few steps, he cast a long glance over his shoulder and the baker couldn't help but wonder why he did this and what it meant.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

While he walked back to the place where was living in a small attic, Sweeney considered the possible meanings of Mrs. Lovett's words. 'Something worth more than money...´ he truly had no idea. There was apparently a very good reason that she didn't want him to be in the room above her shop again and he tried to think of what this reason was. The only concrete option that crossed his mind, was that Mrs. Lovett had somehow found out that he felt a certain attraction towards her and that she was disgusted by it. She had every reason to do so of course, even Sweeney didn't like it that he longed for the baker sometimes. But still, he suppressed that feeling with all his power and as far as he knew, Mrs. Lovett wasn't aware of the things he secretly felt. Or did she?

He could pay her, thrice as much as in the old days, much more than the room was actually worth now that he made pound as if they were pennies and now that he was officially the best barber in town; even the rich came for a shave to the market – just for him. Sweeney felt that Turpin would come soon too and the barber was rather sure that it would be very hard not to torture and kill that man in public. He simply needed a shop where he could 'work' in private.

Sweeney ignored the fact that he needed Mrs. Lovett too to find out what all the strange things that he felt for her meant. But the baker had made pretty clear that she didn't want to see him again, unless…

W_orth more than money. _W_orth more than money._ W_orth more than money._

The words haunted Sweeney during the few hours he rested, replacing the usual memories that followed him when he managed to sleep for a few short moments. But at least he didn't dream about Nellie Lovett herself and he saw that as a very good thing. He feared all day that he would dream about his former landlady's eyes and lips instead of his wife's. Yet, now that Mrs. Lovett occupied his mind so often, Sweeney Todd was afraid that the moment wasn't as far away as it should be. There was such a force in Mrs. Lovett, such an energy to live, that he couldn't help but recognize that urge and he wanted to response to it.

Now that she was acting as cold as _he_ had once been, it made only clearer to him how deeply he desired her. Lucy was gone and indeed, he needed to love and live again like Mrs. Lovett herself had said, to prevent himself from going insane or get lost in the cruel world that London had become.

The next day he headed for the market where he shaved his costumers as he always did. The day progressed in a slow, normal and quite boring way, until Sweeney saw Mrs. Lovett on the market again. Just like the previous time, he watched all her movements and he found himself unable to take his eyes off her.

Soon he found out that she was avoiding him, but he saw too that she cast glances in his direction when she thought that he wasn't looking.

Even from this distance, Mr. Todd could tell his former landlady wasn't doing well. It was obvious that she didn't move as graciously as before and he didn't need to get close to her to know that her eyes were surrounded by black circles.

The barber was dying to know what was wrong with Mrs. Lovett, but she would never tell _him_, nor would Toby who accompanied her as usual.

A plan started to develop in his head and after a few seconds he knew what to do.

"You there," he shouted to his youngest apprentice, who was trying to lure men at the market to the barber stand.

The boy, who was used to being nothing more than a 'you there', quickly walked to Sweeney.

"Listen carefully," the barber said to the young boy. "I have a special assignment for you. If you do it correctly, I'll pay you ten more pennies at the end of this day."

The boy's eyes widened at the idea of making so much money, but then he eyed the barber with a raised eyebrow, knowing this was too good to be true and he probably would have to do something illegal or extremely dangerous to earn the money.

"Don't worry. Do you see that boy over there?" Sweeney asked, pointing at Toby who was walking a few yards behind Mrs. Lovett, carrying her purchases.

"That boy," Sweeney said to his apprentice, "is the adoptive son of the woman who walks over there."

Mr. Todd pointed at Mrs. Lovett when he was absolutely sure that she wasn't looking.

"I want you to go to that boy and find out what is wrong with Nellie... with that woman with the auburn hair, I mean. Do you understand?"

The boy nodded, clearly wondering what was the point of this so called assignment, but he didn't question it as he thought of the ten pennies that were waiting for him if he did what the barber asked.

"Make sure the woman doesn't see you," Sweeney added.

As the boy ran towards Toby, Sweeney watched him intently. Mr. Todd was willing to close the shop to wait until the boy came back and inform him about Mrs. Lovett, but then the sight of an awkwardly familiar person announced the arrival of the moment Sweeney had been waiting for for more than fifteen years.

_Judge Turpin._

There he was, approaching the barber shop in the open air slowly bur surely.

Sweeney's heart beat faster; this was the moment he had been living for for so long after all.

The barber tried to control himself as the Judge headed for the barber stand. Sweeney Todd told himself again and again that he couldn't kill Turpin, not _yet, _not _here_, with all those witnesses around. He had to _wait, _just like Mrs. Lovett had always told him to do. The thought of the baker upset him even more than usual, but he forced himself not to think of her or at least, not _now_.

"Are you the barber that all those people are talking about?"

The voice of Judge Turpin was just enough to bring Sweeney's mind back from his former landlady.

"I don't know sir," Sweeney answered, feigning policy, "I just do the best I can and as long as they are happy, I try not to pay attention to what my customers say."

"I like your modesty, barber," Turpin said. "I wish to be shaved by the best barber in the entire city and apparently that's you."

Before Sweeney could say one more word, the Judge sat down in the barber chair. No matter how hard it was, Mr. Todd knew that there was only one thing that he could do and that was shaving the Judge as well as he could, not letting him know who he truly was. If Turpin was satisfied enough with his work, he might come back to him later, if he had a shop of his own, whether it was the room in the building that Mrs. Lovett owned or elsewhere.

Shaving the Judge was easier than Sweeney had imagined. The first time that the razor touched Turpin's throat, the temptation to cut it and just kill the man, no matter the consequences, was very strong; but he managed to control himself.

When the first part of the shave was done, it was almost like the Judge was a normal customer and only a minute later the work was done. Turpin looked at himself in the small mirror on the barber's stand.

"Excellent work," the Judge said. "I believe you are, indeed, the best barber in town."

Sweeney nodded humbly and when he looked up again, Turpin was gone already, leaving a few miserable pennies on the barber chair.

Expressionless, Sweeney watched how the man who had ruined his life walked away and he smiled grimly as he realized that the Judge had no idea how close to his death he had been while he was relaxing in the barber chair.

Mr. Todd didn't know whether he should be relieved because this went well or angry with himself because he hadn't killed the Judge now that he'd had the chance. Turpin hadn't said that he would come back after all, only that he was satisfied with the barber's work.

"Sir?"A young boy's voice interrupted Sweeney's thoughts. "I did what you asked me to."

The barber looked at the boy, wondering what the kid was doing there, only then realizing that he had ordered him to find out about Mrs. Lovett's condition.

"And?" was all Sweeney said.

"I spoke to that boy, Toby his name was."

The barber nodded impatiently as his apprentice told him what he already knew.

"He told me that his mother feels so unwell because she has a terrible pain in her back."

So that was the reason for Mrs. Lovett's discomfort, Sweeney mused, while a plan started to form in his mind.

He gave the boy the pennies he had promised him, before he told the other boys to announce that the shop would close for the rest of the day.

Mr. Todd wasn't a doctor, but he had an idea about what he would do to give Mrs. Lovett something that was worth more than money, so he would earn the only room in London of which the owner would allow him to kill one of city's most important men in.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Mrs. Lovett didn't sleep – and she hadn't done so for several days. The dull aching in her back, which she had felt for weeks, was becoming unbearable. She had tried to see a doctor, but no matter how rich she was now, she was still a member of the working class and thus not a single _real_ doctor wanted to help her.

With Toby's help she continued life as well as she could. The boy was really supportive, but now that her back wasn't how it was supposed to be and she was forced to rest a lot, her thoughts often drifted to the demon barber.

To her surprise, she realized that she didn't really fear him anymore. Although she had tried to hide herself, he must've seen her at the market at least once and he hadn't made any attempt to hurt her again.

She hated herself for being so unkind to him last week. He shouldn't have offered her the money; it was the lowest thing to do, but only now she realized how much it meant that he was willing to support her financially. She didn't need the money anymore, but the gesture itself was priceless.

However, she had turned it down and it felt as if she had turned _him_ down, which she regretted deeply now.

Although her back was basically hurting too much to do anything, she went to the market every day, just to admire Sweeney Todd from a distance. When she saw him shaving all those men with his skillful hands, she couldn't help but wonder how those hands would feel if they touched her skin.

He didn't look as demonic as before, he was almost human it seemed. He didn't cut throats and now that some of the seldom London sun reached his skin, the barber didn't look like a ghost anymore.

The baker wished every day that she had the nerve to apologize to him, to beg him to come back, but she didn't.

She still felt a bit of hope, but after the way she had treated him, she didn't expect that hope to be grounded. He would certainly turn her offer down now; he would laugh at her, ridicule her in pubic. When he'd kill her hope that way, he'd basically kill _her_, too: if he took that last hope away, there was nothing left for her.

Most of the time she considered all these things and was certain that night was no different. However, her thoughts were interrupted by an unidentifiable sound.

At first, she thought it was her imagination, but then she heard it again: the sound of footsteps was coming from the shop. Fear made her heart beat faster as she thought of all those criminals that terrorized London and that the success of her shop would certainly have caught their attention.

But then she recognized the sound. There was only one person whose feet and shoes produced that exact sound.

"Mr. Todd?" she asked, not trusting her own judgment because she simply couldn't be sure that it was him because she so badly _wanted_ him to be there. "Who's there?"

But no one answered.

Mrs. Lovett listened closely for a minute and when she didn't hear the sound again, she presumed that she had just imagined everything.

She turned around in her bed, moaning in pain when her back protested, but at least she didn't have to face the door anymore. She was sure she saw someone standing there, but she just blamed her imagination for this because no one could stand so still for several minutes without the slightest hint of movement or sound.

However, a few seconds later she realized there _was_ one person who could. But even that person couldn't walk soundlessly on the squeaking floor. Even he had a shadow – the shadow that was projected on the wall that she could see since she had turned around.

"Mr. Todd," she said matter-of-factly, as if it was only normal that the barber was in her room at that hour. "What are you doing here?"

"That depends," his not unkind voice said from the darkness where he was hiding.

"It depends on what?"

"On you."

"How do you mean?" she asked, not knowing what he was talking about.

"Your back is hurting, isn't it?"

It was a mystery to her how he knew about that.

He approached her as she sat up in her bed, revealing her working clothes that she was still wearing.

"I told you ages ago not to wear that corset. Why don't you try those old shirts instead at night?"

Of course he had said so, she remembered it as if it had been yesterday. But the barber couldn't understand that it was too painful to wear his shirt that she still owned, among with a dozen other ones that he had left when he went away so suddenly. His shirts reminded her of freedom, of _him_. Wearing corsets was a way of pretending that nothing had ever happened. And the fact that she had such a sore back in the first place was caused by all the hard work he had demanded her to do when he still killed almost all his customers.

Before she realized he had even stepped forwards to her bed, he was next to her already and roller her on her stomach.

She shrieked in surprise, but he hushed her patiently.

"I think I can do something about the pain," Sweeney said. "Lucy used to have a sore back all the time. She thought me how I could help her and God only knows how often I had to..."

"Do _what_?!" Mrs. Lovett asked, totally dumbfounded now.

Sweeney didn't answer, instead he concentrated on untying the laces of her dress and corset.

Even if she would've been able to decide if she wanted whatever he was abut to do or not, she wouldn't have been able to do something about it for her body was incapable of moving now that Sweeney had rolled her over.

"Nellie, what did you do to yourself? You can hardly move!"

The sound of her first name rolling from his lips as if it was the most natural thing in the world, made her wonder how she could ever have the thought that it was a relief that he was gone.

When she didn't reply he sighed deeply.

"These strings are impossible to untie... like you've been wearing this thing for a very long time and you haven't bothered to wear something else."

It should be an insult, but Mrs. Lovett didn't care: to her it was the biggest compliment that Sweeney noticed something about her, even if it was a negative thing.

But he was right. Because of her sore back, changing her clothes caused so much pain that she'd rather sleep and work in the same dress and corset for weeks than change them. She didn't feel the need to look the best she could now that there was no one around anymore whose attention she wanted to get.

Sweeney took the razor from his belt and cut the backside of her dress, thus taking Mrs. Lovett completely by surprise.

"Don't worry," he said softly. "I'll buy you a new dress if you want me to."

But Mrs. Lovett wasn't worrying about _clothes_ at that moment.

"Mr. Todd? What are you doing?"

But to that question, she never got a verbal answer.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Lucy Barker had often suffered from a sore body and her husband had often massaged her back to ease the pain. The barber was quite sure that he could still do that procedure in spite of the fact it had been many years ago that he had helped his wife for the last time.

At first it seemed easy to help his landlady the same way, but when he cut open her dress and corset to expose her pale skin, he realized that massaging her would be more complicated than he had expected.

He remembered vaguely that he had undressed Mrs. Lovett partly a few weeks ago, but then he hadn't paid attention to her at all. Only now, really looking at her body, which looked even more beautiful in the candlelight than he had secretly fantasized the last few days, was it clear that it would be very hard for him to prevent himself from losing control.

He didn't want to anger Mrs. Lovett anymore; he was there to help her and he'd rather die than surrender himself to the feelings of lust that men like Judge Turpin felt for women who aren't theirs.

"Mr. Todd?"

Her voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Don't worry," he said again, gently pushing her back on the bed. "I'll try to get your back better."

Carefully he opened the cut he had made in her clothes and pulled the fabric off her body.

When her entire back was exposed, his hands automatically wandered over her skin to locate the places were her muscles were causing her pain. The softness and warmth of her flesh startled him and he had to take a deep breath to bring his mind back to the actual massage instead of other things.

The barber felt several stiff muscles beneath her skin; it was no wonder she experienced so much pain. Even Lucy had never had such sore muscles, but well, his wife had never worked the way Mrs. Lovett did.

Punishing himself mentally for thinking things like that, he pushed the palm of his hand against her back to relieve her pain. As he did so, his landlady moaned, probably because he was hurting her, but he had to do this to make the pain go away later.

"I'm sorry, but this is the only way," he apologized before he located another knot of muscles and started to work on those.

He was kneeling down on the ground, but that was rather uncomfortable and he couldn't reach her properly, so instead he sat down next to her on the bed so he could lean over her.

At first, it was awkward to be so close to someone, but within a minute he felt at ease.

Mrs. Lovett allowed him to help her without complaining and that was his chance to win back what he had lost: his room and her trust.

He tried to inflect the least amount of pain as possible, but she still moaned every time he touched her. Yet, her eyes were closed and it almost seemed as if she was smiling and every few seconds she would sigh in a way that sounded rather content.

His hands worked efficiently and within half an hour the barber had eased most of his landlady's pain. But he didn't want to remove his hands from her and he found himself still touching her back even though this wasn't necessary anymore. He wasn't pressing his hands and fingers as before, but now he softly stroked her skin.

He was leaning over his landlady to be closer to her and only when he felt the urge to lay down to her and hold her, he realized what he was doing and that it wasn't his intention _at all_.

When it turned out to feel so good to be feeling this woman, fondness for the baker overwhelmed him and he was hardly able to pull back when he was confronted with the need to kiss the skin that his hands were caressing.

She made a protesting noise when he managed to break the contact between them, but she didn't say anything when he stood up from the bed.

Mrs. Lovett remained lying there, breathing unsteadily and moving a bit to feel that her muscles were hardly hurting anymore.

"Thank you," she said after a few long seconds of silence.

"You're welcome," he replied.

Sweeney remained standing in her bedroom, watching her, not bothered by the fact that her upper body was naked and that there was nothing but the bed itself to prevent him from noticing things he wasn't supposed to see.

Part of him said that he should go away to prevent himself from doing things he would thoroughly regret later, but he simply didn't want to go as long as he had the chance of spending more time in the warmth of the small room and Mrs. Lovett's company.

"Mr. T?"

"Yes?"

"My legs hurt too."

The barber's heart skipped a beat as he realized what she was suggesting.

"I'm sure I can... do something about that," he replied, trying to let his voice sound normal.

He wasn't sure about that at all since he had never learned to massage anything but backs, but he just couldn't say no to Mrs. Lovett.

The baker gestured him to turn around and when his back was facing her, he heard the sound of fabric falling on the floor. The barber closed his eyes, trying not to imagine what was going on just outside of his view.

As she told him to turn around again, Sweeney had no idea what he'd see if he did so, but he turned to face her anyway.

His mouth fell open when he lay his eyes on her, even though her body was still covered mostly. She had wrapped a sheet from her bed around herself and her auburn hair, which had probably already been released from the pins that usually bound it, fell down wildly, framing her face beautifully.

Sweeney Todd had to admit it: despite the demonic plan which she had made up and in which she cooperated for months, his landlady looked like an angel.

The barber's eyes dwelled over her, trying to save all the wonderful details in his memory.

When he looked up to face her, she was smiling: it was a relief to see her this happy again.

"Usually I'd say it's rude to stare, but I think I like it this time," she said mischievously.

His pale cheeks turned slightly red and quickly he turned his gaze away.

She took the opportunity to sit down on the bed and prop up a pillow between herself and the wall, making herself more comfortable.

Sweeney took the hint and approached her carefully. He wasn't sure what to do, but he presumed she wanted him to massage her legs, too.

He sat down in front of her and without saying a word, she placed a foot on his knee. The barber looked up at his landlady and as she nodded, he reached for her legs.

Immediately he felt how tense her muscles were there too, but he stiffened himself as well when he touched her. The contact between them seemed to be more intimate now that her entire body was covered in nothing but a sheet and he was kneeling down in front of her, so his head was basically resting against her knees.

His hands began to move over her flesh and the muscles beneath it. Mrs. Lovett sighed when the pain and tension in her legs was soothed and Sweeney couldn't keep his eyes off her face, which he had never seen so happy and relaxed before.

After only a few minutes, his landlady told him that her legs didn't hurt as much anymore as they had before.

Although his task was thus completed, he didn't want it to be over. So he remained sitting in front of her and traced one of her legs from the edge of the sheet to her toes with his hands numerous times.

Sometimes Sweeney glanced up at her to see that his landlady was biting her lower lip and that her eyes were still closed. The realization that she seemed to enjoy this just as much as he did started to dawn on him.

Running away to be sure that he'd remain faithful to his wife began to appeal to him less than staying right here with Mrs. Lovett, listening to her breathing that became irregular every time he touched her again.

He couldn't tell how long they had been sitting like that, but when he looked up once more, she was sleeping.

Sweeney kept sitting in front of her for a few minutes to watch her serenity and beauty. He wondered how it was possible that he had never seen her before like this, even not when he had spent entire nights at her bedside.

Finally he managed to remove his hands from her body and he placed her lower body on the bed, so she could sleep in a more comfortable position.

He took her right hand in his and kissed her knuckles softly before he forced himself to go back to his own room. He felt that trouble was ahead and that it would get even worse if he stayed with Mrs. Lovett at that moment.

The trouble was that Sweeney Todd, the demon barber of Fleet Street, was falling in love again.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

When Nellie Lovett woke up the following morning, she was alone. For a while she was afraid that everything had been nothing more than a dream, but when she noticed the cut clothes on the floor and the sheet around her body, she knew that the heavenly massage Sweeney had given her last night hadn't been a dream at all.

She closed her eyes again and groaned at the memory of feeling his hands on her body. It had been unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. At first it had hurt because her back was so sore, but the pain was exquisite. Sweeney Todd's hands were strong, yet his touches were considerate and gentle; even better than Mrs. Lovett had always imagined.

She looked around the room, but he was really gone. Wondering what this meant, she concluded it might be better since the sheet had partly fallen off her body while she slept, exposing a part of her upper body in a very unladylike way.

She didn't know if Mr. Todd had seen her like this, but she probably would never find out. The man was the most ambiguous one she had ever known; in the past he had said often that he would never care for anyone except for his family and that he wanted no one to be his wife except for Lucy. He had offended the baker, he had beaten her; but yesterday, there had been something in his eyes which suggested that Lucy wasn't the only woman in his mind anymore and that he certainly didn't intend to hit her again.

Or would it just be another result of her imagination? Mrs. Lovett had some trouble seeing the difference between her dreams and reality sometimes, but the look in Mr. Todd's eyes last night had been quite special, or was that massage just a way to cure her back and nothing more? It probably wasn't intended as an amorous gesture, but the way he had touched her, even after the actual massage was done...

Mrs. Lovett sighed deeply, trying to recall the details from the previous night as much as she could.

A few minutes later she managed to mentally return to the present and she cast a glance at the clock. She sat up abruptly as she realized how late it was already.

Automatically, her hands went to her back to support that part of her body since the sudden movement would surely hurt.

To her surprise, she didn't feel anything at all: her back was functioning exactly as it was supposed to.

Once more she inwardly thanked the barber, although her best dress was nothing but cut fabric now thanks to him. But her sore back was cured and that was so much more important: the time of lying in bed for the greater part of the day and feeling pain every time she moved was over.

She hadn't been able to work in her own shop for more than half an hour during the past week, but that was over now. She could go back to work to help Toby, who had basically been running the shop on his own the last few days. She had no idea how he managed to do that but she felt rather guilty about it. But now that she didn't feel pain anymore, she could work just as much as she used to do.

The baker took another dress and corset form her wardrobe; she had worn those before she was able to afford good clothes and after that she had been too busy to buy any clothes except for the pieces that Sweeney had damaged beyond repair the previous night.

She put on the clothes and ate breakfast quickly before she headed for her pie shop.

Toby waved enthusiastically as he saw her in the shop at that relatively early hour.

"Mum, over here!" he yelled to her from the other side of the shop.

He almost dropped the plate he was carrying in his eagerness to get closer to her. As he reached her without any accidents, he placed the plate on a random table and hugged his mother tightly, happy as he was to see her smile again.

There were still a lot of customers wanting to have breakfast and Mrs. Lovett and Toby tended to them together for more than an hour. The baker thoroughly enjoyed being able to move again so freely and when most of the customers were gone, she gave her adoptive son permission to go to the parlor to rest for a while.

Because of the hard work and joy she found in just walking and carrying plates, she forgotten about Sweeney Todd for a while; but he hadn't forgotten about her.

During the lunch break the barber was standing right outside her shop, watching her again through the windows, but because of all the work she was doing, she wasn't aware of it.

At the end of the day the woman was tired, but very satisfied at the same time. Finally she had the life she was dreaming of: she had freedom and her business was successful, which she could appreciate now that her health was so much better again too. Then there was Toby, who was like the son she had never had. There was only one thing missing in her life: the man she had told herself not to care about anymore, the man she _did_ love, no matter how much she denied it and no matter what he did to her.

Then she remembered what he had asked her, what he had begged her for; he wanted to have his old room back and he would even pay for it. After the wonderful way he had helped her last night, she couldn't refuse that offer any longer.

Immediately she gave Toby the key to the room that Sweeney had owned before and asked him to go to the market to bring it back to the barber.

When her adoptive son returned half an hour later, he informed her that the barber himself hadn't been there. One of the boys that worked for him said that Mr. Todd had gone shopping and that he would give the key to the barber the minute he returned.

Mrs. Lovett had absolutely no idea what the barber was supposed to do in a shop and as she tried to think of the answer, she wasn't bothered by the fact that Toby talked about the boy he had spoken to as if he already knew him.

Happy with Toby's answer about Mr. Todd, Mrs. Lovett dismissed the boy and retreated to her room. When she was lying in her bed, she recalled the things that happened there only twenty-four hours ago.

With a little bit of luck, Mr. Todd would be back in her house soon. She didn't know what would happen then, but she felt there was something changing within the barber. He seemed to be less aggressive, less brooding, more aware of the things and people around him, and probably best of all, he seemed to give a lot more positive attention to her.

All this had been like a dream to her once, something that was beautiful but would never happen. But things were changing now and perhaps the man she had longed for so desperately would be hers after all.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Sweeney Todd wasn't the same man that had left Mrs. Lovett's the previous day. A longing for love, a desire to be touched gently and, most of all, a craving for his former landlady had become such an important part of his being that it was impossible to deny it any longer.

Whether he loved Lucy or not, she was gone, and now he was falling in love with the woman who had always been there for him, even before he had met his wife, but to whom he had never really paid attention.

He wanted to be with Mrs. Lovett, to watch how she moved, to hear her voice, to see those characteristic things of her, like the frown on her face when she concentrated, or how kissable her lips looked as she laughed.

A few weeks ago he had kissed that mouth without wanting to, but only now he couldn't forget about it, no matter how hard he tried.

He returned to her pie shop the day after he had massaged her, for only one reason: to watch her once more, to be lost in her being again.

As he watched her, he found himself wondering about her love life. A few weeks ago he would chosen to die rather than worry about _that_, but now it occupied his mind. Would she still love her husband, or had she never liked him in the first place? And if she didn't care for him anymore, did she have a lover? A secret admirer? Someone who said sweet things to her and spent time with her in short, stolen moments? Was there a man who visited her at night and disappeared before the dawn broke? Did Mrs. Lovett spent some of her nights elsewhere? With one of her customers perhaps? Or was she still alone, waiting for someone to love or, or did she simply not care now that she had Toby and a successful shop to look after?

Mr. Todd didn't know, but of course, that wasn't a surprise since he had never paid attention to his landlady before. Wanting to find out now, he watched the way she interacted with all the men in her shop, but no one seemed to be interested in her in a way that alarmed the barber.

What he did notice was that the dress that Mrs. Lovett was currently wearing was far from the comfortable and luxurious ones that she could afford now. He felt guilty for ruining her newest dress, and he felt even worse for having enjoyed being close to her the previous night so much. He could accept Mrs. Lovett as a very good friend who was always at his side, but he still didn't really dare to see her as more than that. That was Lucy's place after all. But the urge to kiss his former landlady again, to hold her in his arms, to discover her body only the way her late husband had been privileged to do, was becoming unbearable. And whether he wanted it or not, he had already made the first steps in finding out possibilities of a deeper relationship between them. He had bought her a gift a while ago after all and if he didn't care about her in a romantic way, he should've run away last night the moment that he was done massaging her. Now that he thought about it, he shouldn't have had touched her in the first place in that way, even not if it was to help her.

As he was standing there in front of her shop, watching her and thinking these thoughts, he decided that he would buy her another present. He excused his desire to do so because he had promised her after all to buy her a new dress when he had cut the one she had been wearing the previous days.

Feeling that he couldn't get away with it if he left his work _again_ for so long, he went back to the market to work four more hours. A few moments before most shops near Fleet Street closed, Sweeney closed his own barber shop and headed towards the first place that looked as if he could buy a dress there.

It had always annoyed him that Mrs. Lovett wore those rather whorish dresses in the past, but now he was quite grateful for it: with the professional advice of a salesman it wasn't really hard for him to decide what size he should buy for her.

As he left the store with his purchase, the barber couldn't wait any longer and although it wasn't very late yet, he headed straight towards Fleet Street.

There he was confronted with a new problem: the door to the pie shop had been open last night when he had sneaked into Mrs. Lovett's bedroom, but now it was closed. It was a good thing for he didn't want any stranger to end up in his landlady's room, especially not at night, but now he was forced to stay out himself too.

However, Sweeney wouldn't allow a simple door to prevent him from seeing the baker. He went to the back of the building and there he found, just like he had expected and hoped, a window that was open a bit. There was a lock on it, but by simply pushing away the pin of metal that prevented the window from opening completely, he could open the window far enough to climb into Mrs. Lovett's parlor.

Part of his mind wanted to cut his own throat because he was breaking into the baker's bedroom at night, but a larger part realized that he couldn´t live without Mrs. Lovett anymore, whether he liked that or not.

A few seconds later, when he lay his eyes again on the cause of his inner turmoil, all doubts were gone. His former landlady seemed to be even more beautiful as she slept in the few beams of moonlight that reached her room through the curtains.

She was still wearing her working clothes, but he was getting used to the fact that she found more comfort in wearing the same clothes at day and night. It suited her, somehow. Changing clothes would be a waste of time after all, especially in Lucy's case who could spend half an hour every day trying to decide what she'd wear that day.

Sweeney shook his head in disbelief because he found himself annoyed by some of his wife's characteristics that had never bothered him before. Well, before he started to get to know Mrs. Lovett, the second woman in his life for whom he started to develop romantic feelings.

Making sure not to wake her, he moved to her nightstand where he found a candle and a few matches. The first attempts to light the candle in the darkness failed, but with the third match he managed to create a more permanent source of light.

He placed the candle on the nightstand and sat down in the same chair next to her bed as he had been sitting on weeks ago. Once he was comfortable, he looked at the baker again and immediately he felt drawn to the peaceful face of the sleeping woman.

Telling himself that she wouldn't notice and that he wouldn't _do _anything anyway, he got up from the chair and knelt down next to her bed. She lay so close to the edge that their noses were almost touching and Sweeney could feel how her soft breath warmed his skin.

He reached out for the baker involuntarily, but as he cupped her cheek, there was nothing that he wanted more at that moment than to keep feeling that warmth.

Slowly, almost tenderly, he caressed her lower lip with his thumb and he ran his other hand through her hair. Warmth spread from her through his entire body via his fingers and a genuine smile seemed to be stuck on his face. Even though she was sleeping, the baker seemed to smile as well.

Sweeney removed his hands from her, afraid that he would do things he didn't want to – not yet, anyway.

His knees began to hurt because he was sitting in this uncomfortable position and returned to the chair. He placed it closer to her bed and sat down on it again to watch her, feeling once more calmed by her presence.

All memories of Lucy and Johanna and the thoughts of vengeance faded to the background. Nellie Lovett was the only one that occupied his thoughts, as if she was the only one that still mattered, the only one he could hold on to.

When the dawn broke, a few hours later, Sweeney stood up; he didn't want to be seen in Mrs. Lovett's bedroom, especially not at this time.

He placed the package he had brought for her on the chair he had been sitting on so she'd immediately see it when she'd get up.

He was about to leave the room through the window again, but he changed his mind. Instead of leaving, he blew out the candle and retreated to the darkest corner of the room to wait until she'd wake up.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

When Mrs. Lovett lit a candle the following morning to get some light in her room without having to open the curtains, the first thing she noticed was the shape of some sort of package that was lying on the chair next to her bed. Curious, she reached for it, making sure her body remained covered by the blankets so she could postpone direct confrontation with the cold air in the room just a bit longer.

She pulled the package closer to her, noticing it was rather heavy. It was quite late already, but the baker wanted to find out about this mysterious thing before going to work.

Though she couldn't really remember what it felt like to receive a surprise present from someone, she did have the idea that this present was much better than anything someone had ever gotten her, and she hadn't even opened it yet. She didn't even know for sure from who it was; there was no note or message on the paper, but in her heart she knew that only Sweeney Todd could be the one who had bought this for her and found a way to deliver it to her room.

She felt too lazy and content to get out of bed so she just remained where she was, eyeing the package that she was holding now and enjoying the excitement that rushed through her mind as she considered the things that could be hidden beneath the paper.

But as she realized that this gift probably wouldn't be as wonderful as she was hoping since it was from Sweeney Todd after all, she decided not to torture herself any longer and just open the thing to put an end to her imagination.

Slowly the baker removed the paper, revealing fabric that seemed to be black in the candlelight. She pulled the now exposed present away from the remains of the paper and gasped when she realized what it was.

The thing in her hand was a dress, much like the one that Mr. Todd had destroyed the other day, but the color of this one was deeper and the fabric was much softer.

Deciding she'd wear this dress for the time being, she moved to put it on, only then noticing this wasn't the only dress in the package. Hidden beneath the dress she was currently holding was a second one.

Mrs. Lovett carefully took the paper away from this second surprise, her jaw dropping as she scrutinized it. It was certainly not a working dress, but a much more exquisite piece of clothing. Usually she didn't like those expensive looking dresses, but this one was simply breathtaking. Could this really be a gift from Mr. Todd? It had to be, because he was the only one who would sneak into her bedroom at night, but still... would he actually give her something this beautiful?

She stood up from the bed and walked to the mirror, holding the dress in front of her to admire the pure green color and the wonderful feeling of the fabric. It was probably silk, she mused, wondering how she'd look if she'd wear this.

She actually didn't have the time for this; the baker knew that she should have breakfast and go to work, but she just couldn't resist the temptation.

Slowly she removed the straps of the old working dress from her shoulders and let the sleeves slide down her arms. As the fabric fell down her body and landed on the floor, she stepped out of it and carefully pulled the new dress over her head.

Involuntarily, she shivered as the fabric touched her bare skin. It was so soft, so sensual, and it fitted her perfectly. She wondered how Mr. Todd had been able to chose something that fitted her as if it was made just for her; either he was very good at guessing or he had an excellent memory and she had shown a little bit more of herself than she should've – but she didn't really mind either way.

She stared at the image in the mirror, wondering how she could possibly be this angelic looking woman. The baker rearranged her hair so the curls framed her face more gracefully and she adjusted the dress a little so the fabric hugged her curves in an even more beautiful way.

She had to squeeze her arm to be sure that this was reality and not a dream. But indeed, she wasn't looking like the tired and overworked baker anymore; she seemed to be a younger looking version of herself, a vivid woman who had her entire life ahead of her.

If only Mr. Todd could see her like this... he probably wouldn't notice the difference, but if he would just look at her, showing somehow that he appreciated the way she looked... then everything would be truly perfect.

As if he had read her mind, Sweeney Todd emerged from the darkness of the back of her room. Mrs. Lovett had to blink twice to make sure it really was the barber whose reflection she saw in the mirror, but it was him indeed.

"Mr. Todd?"

The barber didn't reply and slowly he stepped closer to her, only standing still as he was stood directly behind the baker.

She watched the two of them in the mirror, not daring to look around as though she was afraid he'd be gone if she directly saw what he was doing.

He moved his hands to her hips and let them rest there, so their skin was only separated by one thin layer of silk, causing a shiver to run down her spine.

"Nellie," he said; she could tell he had trouble keeping his voice stable.

She wondered how long he had been watching her and how much he had actually seen of her when she changed her clothes.

"You are... I..."

It was clear he couldn't say anything that made sense at that moment, so instead he moved closer to her and moved his head down.

At first Mrs. Lovett didn't understand what he was doing, but it was clear soon enough as Sweeney's lips carefully brushed her shoulder. She gasped for air as she realized what exactly he was doing.

His kiss was filled with a tenderness that she hadn't thought possible, especially not from him. But it was real; he was real, they were real and her eyes fluttered closed.

Her knees went weak because of his attention and she leaned backwards against his chest, needing something to prevent her from falling.

His hands, which had been resting on her hips, caressed her skin through the fabric of the dress. Her chest was heaving rapidly because of her frantic struggle to keep breathing, and this time he did notice.

She could sense that the barber himself was loosing control too. He turned her around and gently cupped her cheeks with his hands, staring into her eyes as if he could look straight into her soul. Together they closed the last distance between them and their lips locked for a too-long postponed kiss.

Mrs. Lovett thought she'd faint when she felt Sweeney Todd's lips against her own and his irregular breath told her she wasn't the only one who was overwhelmed. Yet, she managed to pull him closer to her and continue the kiss with as much love as she had felt for the barber all those years.

The sensation that Mr. Todd's kiss caused was overwhelming and the baker felt as if she was floating, knowing this was the closest to heaven she would ever get.

He broke off the kiss after a while, leaving Mrs. Lovett to wonder what was wrong this time. But when she looked in his eyes and read sincere affection there, she smiled. Not having felt that happy before, Sweeney returned the smirk, making him look so much more like the man he once had been.

He moved his head to her face again, but instead of her lips, he kissed her jaw tenderly. She released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding as his surprisingly warm and soft lips caressed her skin for the second time.

She held the barber closely as he clung to her, kissing her and she started to realize that she had been right all those weeks ago: Sweeney Todd could love again. He had changed and he was showing fondness for her now that he was finally recovering from the terrible years that he had been through.

Every time Sweeney's lips left her skin to find another spot to kiss, he whispered her name, making Mrs. Lovett's heart beat faster with joy.

"Mum?"

The baker vaguely noticed that Toby was calling her, but she didn't listen to it now that she had so much better things to do.

"Mum!"

Mr. Todd heard it too, but except for cursing the noisy boy he just continued what he was doing, much to the baker's delight.

The barber's hands moved towards the front of her upper body slowly but surely and she writhed impatiently in his arms, causing him to smile into the kiss.

"Mum, listen to me," Toby yelled, louder this time. "The Judge! He's in your shop!"

Sweeney Todd froze as he understood what the boy was saying; he pulled away from his landlady abruptly.

Loathe and hate was visible in his eyes, the rage his landlady had been so sure only seconds before that she would never see again.

As he distanced himself from her, Mr. Todd didn't even look at Mrs. Lovett. The barber hurried outside the bedroom and parlor, leaving Nellie as if absolutely nothing had just happened between them. Although the baker was standing extremely still, she felt as if she was falling from the highest peak of bliss into an abyss of desperation.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

_The Judge_.

That was all Sweeney could think about. His heart, which had swelled in his chest to twice its original seize when he was kissing Nellie Lovett at last, turned cold as he realized that the moment he had been waiting for for so long was there again. The happiness he had felt so intensely was all gone the moment he realized what Toby said.

"Where? WHERE IS HE?!" Mr. Todd yelled as he kicked open the door to the parlor, where the young boy was standing.

"He... he..." Toby was terrorized by the barber's anger and hate, but the man didn't notice.

"I asked you a question!" he shouted so loud that the people from the shop peeked into the living room to see what was happening there.

"In... in the shop, lo... lo... looking for you."

The barber hurried to the pie shop, knowing that the Judge was there now. No matter what he wanted, Turpin was there for a reason and the barber desperately needed to know what it was.

As he entered Mrs. Lovett's shop, Sweeney looked around frantically for the Judge. The customers intuitively backed away for the barber who was clearly crazy with rage, making it easier for him to move through the crowd.

The barber expected every face he saw to be Turpin's, but when he hurried through the shop, none of the customers turned out to be the Judge.

Sweeney raced upstairs to his old barber shop to find out if the Judge had gone there, but he found the door locked and the room as empty as it had been there when he had left it weeks ago.

He turned around, heading back downstairs, to punish Toby for the false alarm he had apparently sounded.

At that moment, he saw a man walking on the other side of the road, about a hundred yards away from the place the barber was currently standing. It took him a second but then Sweeney recognized the man: it was Judge Turpin.

Mr. Todd was confronted with a huge amount of questions and doubt. What should he do now? The Judge was within his reach, the man had come to the pie shop, perhaps to find out about the barber... Turpin hadn't said that he would visit Sweeney's shop again, but the barber desperately needed him to do so in order to take revenge. But was it really necessary? It was relatively quiet in Fleet Street now, he had his beloved 'friend' with him... what if he just followed Turpin, drag him into an isolated alley and cut his throat?

But the Judge was too far away already; as Sweeney was trying to find the best way to handle the situation, the man he hated so much disappeared around the corner.

Sweeney snarled, realizing that he had missed _another_ opportunity to kill the Judge who had taken his family from him. If that damned boy would've called him just half a minute earlier, he would've had the chance to do... something.

Abruptly, the barber turned around and hurried downstairs, back to his landlady's parlor. Toby was still standing at exactly the same place as before. He probably knew what was coming and presumed correctly that there was no way to avoid Sweeney's demonic anger; just the sight of the barber was enough to make him step back.

"You," Mr. Todd addressed the terrified boy, "couldn't you have shared that little bit of information concerning the Judge's presence just a _little_ bit earlier?!"

"I... I did," Toby murmured, so softly that it wasn't audible.

"What? Speak aloud when you're talking to someone," Sweeney yelled, irritated immensely by his landlady's adoptive son.

"I did," the boy replied, closing his eyes in fear. "I called seven, maybe eight times. But Mum didn't react. I knocked on the door, but it remained completely silent on the other side. And then _you_ came from her room and..."

The barber didn't even listen to the boy's rambling anymore as he started to realize that it was no use blaming him. Toby hadn't known, after all, that he was in Mrs. Lovett's room; Mr. Todd had snuck in there while the boy was sleeping in the parlor, after all. He had just been trying to warn his adoptive mother of the unexpected arrival of such a mighty person and instead of his Mum, he had found someone quite different leaving her room.

But Mrs. Lovett... _she_ had been with him the moment he should've been alert. She had _distract__ed _him and thus it was her fault that the Judge had escaped his punishment once more.

Sweeney chose to ignore the fact that _he _had been the one who had started kissing her in the first place as he moved back towards Mrs. Lovett's room, wanting to punish _her_ now.

Impatiently, he pushed Toby aside, not caring whether he hurt the boy or not.

The barber threw open the door to his landlady's bedroom, taking one of his friends from the holster on his belt as he did so, ready to stop the woman for once and for all for keeping him away from his vengeance.

Since she was standing at exactly the same place as where he had left her and he entered the room at high speed, they were immediately almost face to face. Part of him noticed that her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet, indicating that she had been crying, but he couldn't – or rather, didn't want to – care. She looked sadder and more beautiful than ever before, but this was another fact that he refused to admit.

She looked up abruptly as he made his way into her bedroom, her eyes filled with love and adoration. Only as he stood completely still in front of her, his own eyes filled with hate and a razor in his right hand, did she realize that he hadn't come back to continue where they had stopped only minutes before, but wanted something totally different from her now.

Mr. Todd himself, too, felt that the peace of mind he seemed to have been finding the last few days was gone and he felt once again the tendencies to kill everything that was between him and the Judge before he could murder Turpin too.

The baker recognized the look in his eyes and intuitively she moved away from him. It was no use since he, too, stepped forward, not trying to suppress the waves of anger that ran through his system. Because of this woman, he had once again been unable to do something against Turpin. If _she_ hadn't been there...

"We all deserve to die, Mrs. Lovett," he whispered dangerously. "And now, it's your turn."

She stepped away from the barber again, but after a few seconds her back hit the wall of her room and she was cornered between her bed, the wall and the demon barber. The edges of her nightstand were pressing against the back of her legs and her new dress was horribly close to the still burning candle, but those were the least of her problems. She couldn't escape now and she knew it.

As he stared at her, she could feel the accusations radiating from him, even though he didn't say one word. She realized that he was waiting, waiting for her to say something before he would kill her, as if he was offering her one last futile attempt to save herself.

"I know you're mad at me," she finally said, her voice trembling in spite of her efforts to sound assured. "I know it's my fault that you didn't notice the Judge's presence, but I can assure you that..."

"Shut up," he yelled in such a way that it was clear to her that he had just been waiting for her to say something like that, to plead for her life, so he could only enjoy killing her more. "Don't waste my time with your pathetic excuses. You prevented me from having vengeance _again_, the Judge escaped again and it's YOUR fault."

"Please Mr. T, it wasn't my intention to..."

"SHUT UP!"

He closed the last distance between them and, for the shortest moment, Mrs. Lovett had the strangest idea that he was leaning in for a kiss as he had done so many weeks ago; but when she felt the cold silver of the razor lightly cutting the skin of her neck, it was clear that she probably wouldn't get away this time.

This realization made the entire situation even more threatening and Mrs. Lovett knew that she was looking straight into the eyes of death, but there was one thing that she wouldn't do: she wouldn't give Mr. Todd the pleasure of killing her like she was just one of his ignorant customers, who had their throat cuts without even realizing it and thus were slaughtered without one bit of resistance.

"I will make sure you will never make that mistake again," he hissed as he moved the blade over her skin, causing droplets of blood to drip down her neck.

"Yes, kill me," she muttered darkly. "Just kill the one who could make you feel human again."

She looked up at him and as she saw the slightest hint of hesitation in his eyes, she felt confident enough to push his hand that was holding the razor away from her throat and set a small step in his direction.

"Just kill the woman who had looked after you and helped you all this time," she continued, her voice growing stronger with each word as she felt that she was overwhelming the barber.

"Shut up," he hissed again, but he wasn't as sure anymore of what he had been intending to do only seconds ago. "My wife is gone because of the Judge... my life is destroyed because of what he did, my daughter has to live like a caged animal because of him... and you think I can just walk away and let him continue doing that?!"

"I know," she shouted, having lost her fear because of the barber's hesitation and unable to keep her patience any longer. "But _what_ would you've done? Even if you would've been there when he was, he still... What would you have done, you crazy man? Stabbed him in my shop? Then there's one thing you could've been sure of, and that is that you would've been hanged before the week was out. You could've lured him to your barber shop perhaps?"

Though it sounded like it, it wasn't a real question of course; Mrs. Lovett herself was consumed by rage now and couldn't stop herself from firing the one sarcastic remark after another at the man in front of her.

"Did you forget that you demolished the entire damn place a few weeks ago and that it is still completely _empty_? Perhaps the Judge would grow a _little _bit suspicious because of that."

The woman was unable to stop now that she finally had the chance of throwing her pent up frustrations in his face, and she laughed hysterically as she saw the defeated look in his eyes.

"What else could you've done? Bring him back all the way to your barber shop in the market and kill him there in public? Oh, yes, Mr. T, that's just a _bloody fantastic _thought. You stupid man, I thought you got some of your common sense back, but apparently _not_."

Mr. Todd was completely overwhelmed by this outburst. Never before he had seen his kind landlady like this, and the worst part was that she was _right_. Even if he had managed to talk to the Judge and had been able to persuade him to go _somewhere..._ there was just nothing that he could've done without being caught since he still didn't have a place to kill Turpin without anyone noticing.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door that was slammed closed violently as Mrs. Lovett fled from the room.

Feeling as if all power had vanished from his body along with the baker, he collapsed on her bed, while one question kept echoing in his head. For once, it was not about Turpin but about his landlady, as he realized that he had been on the verge of murdering her.

_What have I done?_


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Although it had been several hours since their fight, Nellie Lovett still couldn't fully understand what had happened exactly between herself and Mr. Todd.

It had all started when those beautiful dresses, apparently a gift from the barber himself, had mysteriously arrived in her bedroom. Then the man had turned out to be in her room too and before she had realized that it was even happening, she and Sweeney had shared a kiss that was filled with so much love and tenderness that she had been sure that Mr. Todd wasn't the hateful man he had used to be.

But, as usual in her life, when everything seemed to be going so very well, something happened to ruin it all. This time it had been the extremely untimely moment that Judge Turpin had decided to show his face in her shop and as Toby informed herself and Mr. Todd of this, the moment between her and the barber passed as if the kiss hadn't happened in the first place.

When he had ran out of her parlor, almost forcing the door out if its place as he did so, the man had had the terrifying gaze in his eyes that she knew too well already. When he returned to her a few minutes later, it was clear that he intended to kill her and Nellie still didn't know where she had found the courage to speak so boldly to the barber. But at least she had saved herself by managing to point out to Sweeney how irrationally his behavior was.

Her blood had been boiling with anger since then and her own mind was far from rational now that so many things had happened all of a sudden and only now, hours later, it started to dawn on her how much that one outburst of hers might have destroyed her growing relationship with the barber. She had offended him, yelled at him, even _mocked_ him... it had been horrible of her to do that; it wasn't as if he had chosen this fate himself after all and the baker started to realize it was a miracle that her anger had saved her and had not simply gotten her killed.

As she analyzed the parts of her situation that her overwhelmed brain could still remember, guilt and regret washed over her. In spite of the possible consequences she felt that she had to see Mr. Todd now, so she could apologize for her behavior. Of course, it wasn't_ her_ fault that she had felt forced to yell at him like she had done, but she knew the barber long enough to be sure that he certainly wouldn't be the one who came back, let alone apologize.

Mrs. Lovett wasn't sure how she could still think that way, but as always, she wanted him to come back. Loving someone as much as she loved as Mr. Todd was a curse, because it seemed to make her again and again do things that she didn't want or shouldn't do. But even as she realized this, she once more simply couldn't prevent herself from going to him and risking her life, just because she couldn't help but love the demon barber.

Inwardly hoping that it wasn't too late to apologize, she hurried to her parlor, the place where she had last seen Mr. Todd. However, as she arrived there she found the room empty except for her adoptive son.

"Where is Mr. Todd?" she asked Toby.

"I don't know," the boy said, but as he refused to look her in the eye, the woman knew that he was lying.

"Where is he?" she repeated, making it clear to him that he had better tell the truth.

"Why do you still care?" he asked loudly, still looking anywhere but at her. "The way he was yelling at you... he doesn't care for you, he just wants to hurt you. Why don't you _see_, Mum?"

"Shut it," she said, forcing herself to stay calm so the conversation wouldn't result in another fight. "I'm not going to discuss this with _you _again. Mr. Todd is a better man than you think and I hope he'll be able to show that. Now, can you please tell me where he is?"

Toby sighed deeply, but finally his eyes met those of his newfound mother.

"When he left the parlor, Mr. Todd was mumbling to himself. He said something like 'back to the market', so I th..."

Before she had even given the boy the possibility to finish his sentence, Mrs. Lovett had already turned around and paced out of her parlor.

A few minutes later she arrived at the market and immediately she recognized the barber. He was at work like he usually was there, but even from this distance Mrs. Lovett could see that there was something far from 'usual' about the barber. The man was more tense than she had ever seen him and she didn't really dare to go to him because she considered him- at this moment- crazy enough to kill her right there in the market. But, because she felt she would really lose him if she let him go now, she carefully moved towards his barber shop.

Toby had told her that he had given the key to the old barber shop, the symbol for her forgiveness for Mr. Todd, to one of Sweeney's apprentices. Mrs. Lovett however didn't immediately see them and so she wasn't sure whether the barber already had received the key or not.

At that very moment she was far from comfortable with the feeling, but in order to end all the madness she had to give the room above her own shop back to the barber, so he would finally have a safe place to kill Turpin and his quest could end at last that way. To achieve this, she had to make sure that the barber would return to his old barber shop and that he wouldn't make up another crazy plan that would possibly get him in danger and even bigger trouble.

When she slowly approached his barber stand, he recognized her in the crowd and he let his eyes rest on her for a few seconds. Mrs. Lovett took a deep breath and forced herself to keep walking towards him.

She came face to face with him just after he had finished shaving another customer, and thus his attention was immediately all focused on her, which didn't reassure the baker at all.

"Mr. Todd," Nellie said, clearing her throat. "I want to apologize for..."

As she stared into his eyes, her speech faltered. Only a few hours ago his black orbs had been filled with fire, and now... they were cold and dead, as if he had banished the memory of her from his mind or had totally forgotten about their kiss.

"What do you want?" he snarled without emotion.

"Nothing," she said weakly, her heart breaking because of his aggressive and indifferent attitude. "I'm only here to tell you that you can come back to your old barber shop. Toby gave the key of the door to one of your apprentices yesterday. I assume you already have it, but I just want to let you know that in spite of the circumstances... you can come back if you want to."

He stared at her for a few seconds, and she wasn't sure if it actually happened or it was just her imagination, but the look in his eyes seemed to soften a little bit. He nodded without saying a word and, because Nellie wanted to make clear that she actually wanted him to come back, she extended her hand for him.

After a few long seconds, he took her hand and shook it, less firmly than she had expected him to be.

"Truce?" she dared to ask as he didn't actually try to break the bones of her fingers.

"Alright," he said.

A smile was about to find its way on her face because he didn't kill her or ridicule her proposition, but he already pulled back his hand and moved his back towards her.

However, as they looked each other in the eyes at the last moment that their hands were touching, the baker could feel something like electricity running through their connected hands. But Sweeney didn't seem to feel it (or just ignored it) and quickly broke the contact. As if nothing had happened, he gestured to a man who was waiting for a shave to sit down in the barber chair and continued working.

Mrs. Lovett was willing to shout in disappointment because he didn't experience the same intense feelings between them as she did, but she knew well enough how much it meant that he had actually agreed on a truce and hadn't killed her in the first place.

For now, there was nothing she could do except for hoping that the barber would come back to her house and that they then would get an opportunity to continue their slowly growing relationship, which seemed to have dramatically ended that morning.

The baker walked back slowly towards her shop, ignoring the people around her and not caring that the filth on the cobblestones ruined her shoes. All she could do was thinking of the barber and the intimate moment they had shared before. If she concentrated hard enough, she could still feel Sweeney's hands and lips on her skin.

No matter how things would turn out in the near future, Mrs. Lovett had the memories of those few heavenly minutes and even the demon barber himself couldn't take those away from her.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Sweeney spent the night in the small room that he had rented of one of his customers, but in spite of the quietness of the attic, he couldn't sleep. Insomnia wasn't something he was unfamiliar with, but the reason for his lack of sleep was rather different than usual. Instead of thoughts of blood and vengeance, Mrs. Lovett had once again found her way into his mind. In those few minutes his eyes finally fell closed and he managed to doze off for a short time, his mind somehow remained alert, as if it had still not adapted to the relatively safe environment of a room in west London after he had been forced to be on his guard twenty-fours hours a day when he was still in banishment.

In those minutes that his body relaxed a little bit at last, short dreams formed in his brain and although he could never remember those the second he woke up with a start once more, he intuitively knew that he had been dreaming about his former landlady. This realization was always followed by a mix of anger and a feeling that perhaps could best be described as affection.

He wasn't supposed to be thinking about Mrs. Lovett that way, certainly not now that she had intervened in his plans for the Judge again, but he had been telling himself that for so long that the sentence "I'm not supposed to care for Mrs. Lovett", that he had repeated countless times to himself, was growing old and lost most of its former power.

During another restless hour in his uncomfortable new bed, he remembered once more how it had been to kiss her and he started to forget whether he was angry with her for kissing him so he had missed his opportunity to figure out what Turpin was up to, or that he blamed the Judge for interrupting the kiss by arriving in the baker's shop at the very moment Sweeney was finally doing what he had wished to do for quite some time.

As the barber stared to the ceiling of the dark room, he realized that he couldn't stay there. If he couldn't go back to Mrs. Lovett, he feared that the lack of comfort and safety she subconsciously offered would kill him physically at last. He didn't want to be surrounded by nothing but coldness and indifference any more, but giving in to the baker's feelings wouldn't be an answer either since he could never leave his past behind if the Judge was still walking around and if there was one thing that had turned out to be distracting for him, it was his former landlady's presence.

For the first time since he had heard of the terrible fate of his wife and child, Sweeney Todd didn't know what to do. Every possibility that he had seemed to contain advantages and big disadvantages, and in all of them Mrs. Lovett and the Judge were either a good or a bad thing. Going back to Mrs. Lovett seemed like a good idea, but this would mean that he couldn't focus on the task he had lived for all this time: killing the Judge who had ruined his life fifteen years ago. However, if he decided to focus on killing Turpin, he might lose Mrs. Lovett.

Sweeney felt like beating his fists against the wall in frustration, but this wouldn't bring him any further to the right solution and he knew it. What he did know, was that he was sick and tired of the small, impersonal room and that he didn't want to stay there one more minute, even though it was very early in the morning.

When another gust of cold winter wind partly found its way through the old and leaking roof, making the barber shiver beneath the moth-eaten blankets, he quickly moved out of the bed and pulled on his shoes and jacket. Along with the cold, a moment of clearness seemed to hit him and he realized within a few seconds what he had to do. His main priority was getting rid of Turpin for once and for all, but he couldn't focus on that when Mrs. Lovett was around. He figured that if he killed the Judge first, he had lots of time after that to think of what he wanted to do then, or rather, what he wanted to do as far as the baker was concerned. Staying away as far from her as possible seemed to be the wisest thing to do for the time being, but it was a fact that he needed his old barber shop back to kill the Judge properly and that room just happened to be in Mrs. Lovett's home.

Mr. Todd stared at the key that his apprentice had given it back to him; the key of his old room, that the baker was willing to give back to him. As he looked at the small object, a plan started to develop in his mind.

After a few moments, he left the room quietly, so he wouldn't wake his current landlord. He sneaked into the living room where he left a few coins to cover the few nights that he had spent in the attic since the last week he had paid his rent. It wasn't the best way of saying goodbye, but once Sweeney had a plan he wanted to execute it as soon as possible and this was no exception.

His steps grew bigger and his pace quickened as he headed for Mrs. Lovett's pie shop. When he ascended the stairs to his own home, he was glad that his landlady was probably still asleep: even though he wanted to go back to her, he didn't feel ready to meet her face to face again.

The key perfectly fitted the lock of the door perfectly and seconds later, he was back in his old barber shop. It was just as empty as it had been when Sweeney had left it a few weeks ago. He sighed as he realized how much easier this would be if he wouldn't have smashed all his belongings, but he had done so and he couldn't change that. Only the trap door was still there, but since he had destroyed the lever too, it was useless. This didn't matter since Sweeney didn't plan to ever use it again, except perhaps to get the bodies of the Judge and the Beadle to the bakehouse. However, he would need something that looked at least a bit like a tonsorial parlor.

Realizing there was a lot of work to do that he couldn't do all by himself, he locked the door again and went back to the market. As he arrived there a few minutes later, he woke his three apprentices, who were sleeping next to the stand to guard it and to find a bit of protection against the chilly winter air.

The three young boys opened their eyes with difficulty and cursed in protest because of the early hour.

"We're moving," Sweeney announced.

The three blinked slowly, since they were far from awake and both their bodies and brains was numbed by the cold.

"We're going to a warmer place," the barber added, sensing the reluctance of his apprentices.

That second announcement caught their attention; the three of them stood up as quickly as they could and waited for orders.

"You'll bring most of this equipment to another place, the room above Mrs. Lovett's pie shop, and we'll use some of the planks of this stand to rebuild a part of that room."

The three boys seemed to be enthusiastic to the prospect of going to a warmer place, but as Sweeney saw how weak and exhausted they looked, he realized that they wouldn't be of much help unless they had a warm, proper meal first. It was still very early in the morning, but he knew that Mrs. Lovett's shop always was the one that opened first. It was a habit from the time that they still had to get rid of as many human remains as possible every day again, but as people grew used to the fact that the pie shop opened so early, the baker never changed the opening time of her shop.

"I need strong helpers," Sweeney said, while he gave each of the boys a few pennies, "so I want you to go to Mrs. Lovett's pie shop to buy yourselves a warm pie."

The boys didn't need to be told twice and a few seconds later they ran away for the first proper meal they would have in a very long time. Sweeney himself eyed the stand to find out what pieces of it he could use to create a wall in his old room. He remembered that Mrs. Lovett had told him that it was a good idea to separate the barber shop from his personal space and now that he had finally the material and time, he decided to give it a try. If that was done, all he would need was the barber chair, which he could take from this stand, his friends and a bit of decoration, but he was sure Mrs. Lovett could help him with that – if he would ask nicely, at least.

As he was about to start finding a way to remove planks of wood from the stand, a man approached him.

"Good sir," the stranger said, "you're not resigning, are you?"

Sweeney stiffened for a moment because he had totally forgotten about this aspect of his plan. He would lose quite a lot of old and potential customers, possibly including Judge Turpin, if he would just leave the place where he had become well known for his skills during the last few weeks without finding a way to let anyone know where he had gone.

"No sir," someone suddenly answered. "He's just moving."

Sweeney recognized the boy as one of his apprentices; only now that he saw him without the other two, he realized how small and young this boy looked. Now that he thought about it, this was the boy he had sent to Toby to find out about Mrs. Lovett a few days ago.

"That's right," Sweeney added, "we're moving to Fleet Street; I'll continue my business in the room above Mrs. Lovett's pie shop."

"That's excellent news!" the man said enthusiastically, "then I can have a pie and a shave in the same building!"

Before Mr. Todd could react to what the stranger had said, the man already disappeared in the crowd and the barber turned his attention towards the boy as he realized that he wasn't supposed to be there at this moment.

"Why aren't you in Mrs. Lovett's shop? Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes, I am," the boy mumbled, "but the two other boys stole the money you gave me."

Only then the barber noticed the bruises on the boy's face and arms.

"What's your name?" Sweeney asked, in a more gentle way now.

"Arnie, sir," the boy replied, staring at the remains of the shoes he was wearing.

Sweeney was shocked by the cruelty of the other boys, who were wiling to beat up one of their own for a few pennies. He realized that he was quite hungry himself too, but since all his money was gone now that he had paid his former landlord and his apprentices, he couldn't buy any food. There was only one person who could help him with that. Mrs. Lovett would probably be reluctant to offer _him_ any food, but if there was an innocently looking, homeless boy with him...

"Come with me," he said to the boy.

Together they walked back to Fleet Street. Intuitively the barber walked faster as they came closer to the pie shop and Mrs. Lovett herself. In spite of the hungry feeling he experienced, Sweeney found himself looking forward more to her company than to the actual food.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

The fist customers in Mrs. Lovett's shop that morning were two teenage boys. To the baker, they seemed somehow familiar but she didn't really recognize them. Blaming her own tired mind and busy schedule, she served them the pies they ordered and when they had paid, she took some more pies from the oven.

As she continued working, the baker cast a few more glances at the rather noisy boys, who she became more and more sure that she had seen before. But when other customers arrived and ordered their food, she didn't have the time to think about it anymore.

A few minutes later, she was completely surprised to see none other than Sweeney Todd enter her shop. It was only odd to see him in the pie shop again, but the fact that he wasn't alone was quite unusual too, especially since the person that stepped into the room immediately after the barber and stood behind him was a _child_.

Mrs. Lovett ordered Toby, who just came back from the bakehouse, to tend to the other customers by himself for a while as she went after Mr. Todd and the mysterious boy, hoping to find out as soon as possible why they showed up in her shop.

To her bewilderment, the barber led the boy straight to her own parlor as if he owned the place, and for some reason he seemed to avoid the corner where the two teenage boys were sitting.

"Bring him something warm to eat," the barber said the second he noticed her stepping into the living room as well.

The man refused to look at her, but Mrs. Lovett was much too angry to notice.

"No," she said powerfully.

"What?"

The one word question was probably supposed to threaten her, but the baker didn't feel intimidated at all, perhaps because the man still refused to look at her and seemed to do everything to prevent himself from even standing close to her.

"Ya run away from me, then ya return and order me ta look after a child who ya happen ta bring ta me shop because... why, exactly?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the small boy, whose actual presence the woman had already almost forgotten because of the sudden appearance of Mr. Todd. "I shouldn't have bothered you. I'll leave."

"Of course not, ya silly nit," she replied to him. "I ain't angry wit' _chu_, but wit' that man who is standing next ta ya. I'll make ya some soup."

Before either of the two could say a word, the baker disappeared into the kitchen where she had stored the remains of the soup that Toby and she hadn't eaten last night. She had intended to eat the rest of it that day, but the boy who had come with Mr. Todd clearly needed it more than Toby or she did.

She warmed the soup on the fire and, while she wondered what the boy had to do with Sweeney, Mr. Todd entered her kitchen.

"I presume yer not gonna explain who that boy is and wot he's doin' 'ere?"

Her question was greeted with silence and inwardly she sighed deeply, realizing the barber was being as impossible as he been for many months in the past.

"Do ya want some soup, too?" she asked, hoping that she might get an answer to this question.

"No," he said, but she could tell he was lying from a noise of hunger coming from the barber's direction at the mere mentioning of the food she was preparing.

Knowing that it was useless to try communicating with the stubborn man in this state, she removed the pan with now warm soup from the fire and started to bring it to the boy.

However, before she could walk out of the kitchen, he pulled her backwards against his chest. She managed to place the cup of soup on the counter before the barber's lips started their assault on her bare shoulders and she surrendered to the sensations this caused.

They had been together like this one time before, but as Mrs. Lovett felt the man's tongue running over her skin, she knew that she would probably _never_ get used to the fire that awoke within her.

"Listen to me," Sweeney muttered between kisses, "I can't go on like this. I have to _focus_ to kill the Judge and the Beadle, but all I can think of is you."

"I can't 'elp that, can I?" she said, trying to remain standing on her legs that went weak with want once again.

"Yes, you can," he managed to say as his hands roamed freely over the front of her body, causing the woman's breath to become labored. "Just... ignore me."

She wanted to say something but she simply didn't have the chance since the barber turned her around suddenly and forced his lips against her own.

In spite of the unexpected development, Mrs. Lovett immediately replied to the kiss. She could tell by the hungry yet gentle touches that he actually cared for her, that he wanted her, and this made her feel better than she had ever felt.

However, it was over as abruptly as it had started. After less than one heavenly minute, Mrs. Lovett felt that the strong arms around her were gone and that the warmth she had felt had disappeared as well. When she persuaded her eyelids to open again, there was nothing but the barber's retreating back.

For a few seconds she was confused and had no idea what to do or how to react, but then she remembered what he had said just before he kissed her. He wanted her to ignore him, so he could focus on killing the Judge and the Beadle. This was the only way that something like a relationship between them could ever work, since the barber would be reminded of his old life and his late wife every time when he saw Turpin or Bamford parading over Fleet Street.

Still trembling, she leant back against the sink, hoping that her hear would stop beating so frantically. She thought it was incredibly cruel that she had to leave the barber alone now that he had finally showed how much he cared for her after all. Even though she had been afraid of him and didn't really trust him yet, he had told her with one kiss that she didn't have to fear him anymore and that he really cared for her.

She would never admit it to him, but she felt quite happy because he had said to her that he was apparently distracted by her. It was very satisfying to know that she had such an influence on the man who hadn't even noticed her when he was dressing her only months ago.

How ironic it was that, now that he finally felt attraction for her, he had to kill the men who were the last persons who reminded him of his wife first. Mrs. Lovett could only hope that Judge Turpin and Beadle Bamford would find their way to Sweeney's barber shop soon; ignoring the barber when he absolutely hadn't care about her had been hard, but now that he seemed to enjoy their kisses as much as she did...

As she spotted the cup of soup that was still standing on the small table in her kitchen, she realized that, although it might seem differently, there were still other things than Mr. Todd in the world. The baker picked up the cup and brought it to the boy, who she presumed was still in her living room.

However, as she entered the parlor, she didn't see the boy at first. For a few seconds she thought that he had disappeared together with Mr. Todd, but then she spotted him at last. He was sitting in front of the hearth, warming his hands by the fire.

She approached him and offered him the soup, smiling a bit as she saw his grateful face.

"Thanks so much," he said before quickly eating all of the soup as if he hadn't had something proper to eat for a very long time. Realizing this was probably indeed the case, she went back to the shop to get a few pies for him.

As she offered him the pies, the boy's eyes widened, as if he couldn't believe that someone was actually willing to give this to him, but when the baker nodded gently, he eagerly took the food from her.

Within a few minutes the small boy ate the pies and as he did so, a plan started to develop in Mrs. Lovett's mind. Mr. Todd had made it clear that he didn't want the two of them to talk for the time being, and he probably even didn't want them to be in the same room or even talk to each other. She already knew this was going to be _very_ hard, but it might be easier if she at least knew what the barber was up to and how he was coping. The baker realized that _she_ couldn't stay in touch with Mr. Todd, but perhaps the child that he had brought with him...

"Wot's yer name, if I may ask?" she asked the boy, trying to sound casual.

"My name's Arnie," he replied, once he had recovered from the shock that a second person was asking for his name within one hour.

"So Arnie... ya work fer Mr. Todd, right?"

The boy nodded eagerly and inwardly Mrs. Lovett smiled, realizing that she had found the perfect person to 'spy' on the returned barber.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

Sweeney Todd commanded the two older apprentices to come with him to help moving the barber chair and most of the wood of the old stand at the marketplace back to his room above Mrs. Lovett's shop. Arnie was talking to the baker and although Sweeney tried not to, he did notice the soft smile on his landlady's lips now that she had taken a second young orphan under her wings. Temporarily, at least. Mr. Todd felt quite guilty for just ordering her to look after the boy for a while, but it was the only way to keep Arnie safe from his terrorizing peers. And as long as the boy was there, Sweeney wouldn't be confronted with most of the woman's seemingly endless attention.

Not wanting to take away the joy she seemed to find in this boy's presence and deciding that it was better for the time being if the child stayed with her anyway, he decided not to say anything and just leave the pie shop without even saying a word of goodbye. Sweeney feared that if he would come face to face with the baker, he would once again lose control over his own actions. It terrified him that even if he explicitly forbade himself to long for his landlady, he had found himself kissing her with passion once again.

Forcing himself not to think of this anymore, he walked back to the marketplace where he, upon arriving there a few minutes later, ordered the two boys who had come with him to help him taking the wooden stand apart while he tried to hide the disgust he felt for them now that he knew how they treated weaker persons.

When more than an hour later there was left nothing of the stand except for the barber chair and a lot of wooden planks, the two boys carried everything to his old barber shop. Sweeney himself stayed behind, wondering how he could best get rid of those two bullies and what to do with all his customers who weren't aware of the fact that he had moved his shop.

Last time Arnie had been there to tell a curious customer that they were moving the barber shop back to Fleet Street, but he was sure that Mrs. Lovett wouldn't allow the boy to continue doing this work in the cold winter air all day. However, Sweeney realized, he didn't have a problem having the two older boys doing that unpleasant task and as his landlady didn't know about them, she couldn't object against it either.

Now that he had decided about this, the barber and the two older boys spent the few hours that followed carrying everything what Mr. Todd would need in his new tonsorial parlor back to his room in Fleet Street.

As this was done, the three of them were exhausted; it wasn't an easy task to carry many heavy objects through the crowded streets after all. But when all the materials were finally in the right place, Sweeney continued working after he had dismissed the boys for the time being.

It was odd for him to return to that particular room for the second time in half a year, but this time it felt so much better than before. Although still painful to really think about, the news of the loss of his wife was something he had started to deal with by now and unlike last time, he knew now that there was a reason to live for him, even after he killed the Judge and the Beadle.

As he was staring off into space, both thinking about the best approach of his new barber shop and the part that Mrs. Lovett could play in his life without causing him to lose control, there was a sudden knock on the door.

"Yes?" he automatically said, forgetting that this person might be Mrs. Lovett.

However, as the door was opened it was immediately clear that his landlady wasn't the one who was visiting him. Instead he saw his youngest apprentice standing on the threshold.

"Mrs. Lovett asked me to give you this sir," he said while he handed Sweeney a large cup of something that looked like soup.

When the boy mentioned the woman's name, Sweeney subconsciously shivered. He even felt the urge to shout at the boy for mentioning the baker and thus reminding him of her even if he managed not to think of her for a few minutes. But, the barber realized, the boy couldn't help it after all and at least Mrs. Lovett was clever enough not to bring him his food himself like she used to do. Even when he and the woman did nothing but have a normal conversation, he had wanted to surrender once more to the happiness that he experienced when he was so close to her.

"Thank you," he muttered to the boy.

As Arnie left the room, Mr. Todd went back to work. He had all the materials he needed; now he had to transform them into a professional looking tonsorial parlor. With the tools that he found in a storage room of Mrs. Lovett's, the barber started his task.

A few hours later, the barber chair was looking as if it had come directly from a store and by creating a new wall in his room with the wood of his old barber stand at the market, he now had not only a neat-looking barber shop, but his own small bedroom as well. Both the rooms were decorated with flowers and curtains that Mr. Todd had received from Mrs. Lovett. Via Arnie of course; the boy was proving to be an excellent help in his communication with his landlady. Sweeney preferred to see the woman herself of course, but he knew very well that he found himself totally distracted by just being in the same room with her, let alone talking to her. If he kept making mistakes at crucial times because of the absent-mindedness that his landlady caused, he would never get his vengeance on Turpin and Bamford.

The young boy was getting probably sick and tired of bringing messages like "Tell Mr. Todd that his dinner will be ready soon" or "Ask Mrs. Lovett where I can find a hammer" every moment that he wasn't helping in the baker's pie shop, but it was not as if he had an actual choice of his own in the matter.

When the work was finally done and Mr. Todd had made plans for the great re-opening of his tonsorial parlor, he placed the pillow and the freshly washed blankets that Mrs. Lovett had given him (once again, via Arnie) on the bed, that he had manufactured himself from the remains of the wood of the newly made wall.

The barber had decided that he would reopen his shop the next day. Until that moment, there was nothing he could do against the Judge and there weren'tany other plans to be made. For once, he could just let this thoughts wonder where he wanted them to go. Instead of pacing around and brooding about what the next few days would bring, he laid down in his self-made bed and surrendered himself to dreams about Mrs. Lovett.


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Mrs. Lovett hadn't seen the barber for almost two whole days but thanks to Arnie, who liked Mr. Todd for some reason unbeknownst to her, she could communicate with Sweeney in an indirect way. The shop was busier than ever now that most of Sweeney's customers had breakfast, lunch, or dinner in her shop; but, although her working days were even more tiring than they had before, she didn't mind that at all. The knowledge that Sweeney and she were on good terms again gave her wings. The fact that Arnie helped her in the shop now too and that he was as good a worker as Toby made her life easier as well. The two boys could get along very well and now that they held each other's company, Mrs. Lovett didn't really have to look after them anymore.

Because of all this, she finally had the time to rest if she wanted to, which made her feel so much better than during the previous months. Of course, it frustrated her that Mr. Todd refused to talk directly to her, but the reason for this was rather flattering and promising.

The grand re-opening of the barbershop, which had taken place earlier that day, had been a huge success. Customers had waited up to fifteen minutes for their shave during rush hour, and even on "quiet" moments the chair had never been empty.

The baker never spoke to Mr. Todd, but luckily there was Arnie, who remained sending messages between herself and Sweeney during the day when there weren't too many customers in the pie shop. With a few subtle questions, he told her all about the barber's whereabouts and this way Mrs. Lovett had at least some idea what the barber was up to. It seemed as if he was focusing to the extreme on his work, but according to the young boy, Sweeney stared off into space sometimes during a quiet moment, and apparently he muttered things like "having to wait until it's over" every once in a while.

To Mrs. Lovett it was almost impossible to ignore the barber like he had asked her to now that he was once again living in the same building as she did and that he had even admitted that he returned at least some of her feelings. But she knew very well that she had to wait until he was ready for whatever the future had in mind for them. It was extremely hard just to pretend as though he was still out of her reach but just like she had told herself so often, all good things come to those who can _wait_.

And thus, she ignored the presence of the barber when she was desperate to hear his voice or look into the endless black of his eyes and even when she longed so much for him that it actually hurt, she forced herself to stay away from him.

Two days after the re-opening of the barber shop, Mrs. Lovett was resting in a comfortable chair after a day of hard work in her own shop. Toby and Arnie were playing a card game and during the game they talked about how their lives had been before the baker had taken them under her wings.

The woman sighed when she overheard their sad stories. Once again she was glad to have saved Toby-- and Arnie now, too, it seemed-- from a cruel life on the streets of London. She was relieved as well to find out that the boys seemed to have a good influence on each other. The baker had been a bit worried about Toby, who seemed to be a bit too dependent on her sometimes; but now that Arnie was there as well her first adoptive son, he didn't seem to be envious as she had expected him to be. Instead, Toby seemed to behave like an older brother towards Arnie. And now that Toby had a companion to talk to and play card games with, the boy had better things to do than drink himself to sleep every night.

Mrs. Lovett realized that her own little family, whether it was an odd one or not, was slowly expanding. Less than a year ago she had been all by herself, and now she had two adoptive sons and a potential lover, none other than Mr. Todd himself. But still, her greatest dream, having an actual relationship with the barber, hadn't come true yet. The baker wasn't discouraged by this thought; Sweeney would probably never know how much she really felt for him, how deep her love for him was, but at least he cared now for her and seemed to have developed a fondness for her after all.

She wished the Judge would just visit the barber shop soon, so that Mr. Todd's quest could be completed at last and his new life could begin.

Because the baker was thinking about Turpin, she didn't realize at first that the two boys in her parlor were talking about the same man.

"... sentenced me oldest brother ta death and 'e didn't do anything'! And now, that... that... _bastard_ is comin' ta Mr. Todd's shop!"

Mrs. Lovett's jaw dropped as she heard this. Of course not because of the rude word the most recent addition to her little family used (even though it _did_ fit Judge Turpin) and not even because she heard of another innocent victim of the Judge; the fact that Turpin apparently would come for a shave very soon was the thing that shocked her.

"The Judge will come _tomorrow_‌?"

"Yes, ma'am," Arnie said, looking at her in shock himself as she realized that the woman had overheard their conversation.

"'Ow do ya know?"

"One o' 'is servants was in 'is shop this afternoon, ta make an appointment. No one ever makes an appointment, they jus' come whenever they please and wait until Mr. Todd 'as time for 'em. Mr. Todd didn't seem to mind, though, that this man made an appointment fer the Judge. 'E was friendly ta the servant, even said that 'e was looking forward ta seein' 'im in 'is barber shop again."

"_Again_?" Mrs. Lovett echoed, dumbfounded to hear another thing that she didn't know.

"Yes, again. 'E came fer a shave last time when Mr. Todd was still working at the market."

"'E never told me that," Mrs. Lovett said absent-mindedly.

Arnie gave her a strange look; he probably wondered why Mr. Todd would tell her something in the first place. The baker wasn't aware of the boy's curiosity though as another thought entered her mind. There were quite a lot of things Sweeney hadn't told her, it seemed. What if Mr. Todd and she were growing apart now that he choose to ignore her in order to focus? Or what if this was just an excuse so he wouldn't have to spend any time with her?

"Do ya know what time the Judge is comin'?" Mrs. Lovett asked, forcing herself to remain calm and rational.

"Tomorrow at two o'clock."

The young boy tried to hide it, but Mrs. Lovett could tell he was afraid and in spite of the situation, she felt sorry for him.

"Don't worry, Arnie, I won't send ya ta Mr. Todd until the Judge is gone. And now, try ta forget about 'im fer the time bein'."

The boy nodded and he and Toby continued their card game. For Mrs. Lovett however, it wasn't that simple. She sat back in the chair and tried to calm down. But of course, this attempt failed as the realization dawned on her that tomorrow would be the day she had been waiting for for such a long time.


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Although it was far past midnight, life continued for Sweeney the way it always did. Especially now he shouldn't stop focusing, shouldn't let his guard down, no matter how much he craved to relax for just a couple of hours.

The Judge would come tomorrow; all should be over within twenty-four hours. Unless Mr. Todd would ruin his chance once again, but Sweeney knew that he was capable of killing Turpin just like he had slaughtered most of his customers for months, even though this had been a while ago now.

But when he finally would take Turpin's life, he shouldn't be just another customer who was killed almost automatically. It should be special; so aggressive, so bloody that he could get rid of all the hate and anger he felt so immensely for once and for all. The murder had to be so horrible that he would remember it for the rest of his life. It had to compensate for the fifteen years he had spent in banishment, for the family that had been destroyed, for the lives that had been ruined.

But what if it wasn't be enough? What if the Judge would somehow escape? Or what if Turpin wouldn't show up? And he hadn't even told Mrs. Lovett. Sweeney should tell her, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't want to confront her with more horrible plots and cruel plans. But still, he wished he wouldn't have to face the night before the coming day alone. He knew what sort of effect her kind eyes, delicate touches and softly spoken words had on him; he could only relax when she was near him, it seemed. It was so tempting, and that was exactly why it was so dangerous.

Only months before he had found this kind of thoughts ridiculous, but there was nothing that he wanted more than a night of good sleep. He needed it, certainly now, because tomorrow everything would – hopefully – come to an end and he would need all his possible concentration to achieve this. But yet, the chance that he would get lost in his landlady's presence was a risk of which he wasn't sure he was willing to take it.

He collapsed on his self made bed and closed his eyes. The mattress that Mrs. Lovett had given him earlier made the wooden bed a lot more comfortable than it had been before, but with his current state of mind, he wouldn't be able to sleep properly _anywhere_. And, as he continued to thoroughly examine his own thoughts and desires, the problem was that he _really _didn't want to spend the night alone. The woman who could possibly make him sleep properly at last was just one floor below him; within reach, but at the same time so far away.

Although, far away... the only reason that he wasn't sleeping in her bed downstairs right now in the first place, was that he had explicitly forbidden her – and himself as well, numerous times – to let this happen.

Whether she 'distracted' him or not, he wanted to spend the last night of his current life in the arms of the woman he had grown to care about during the past half year. He needed her kindness, he needed her warmth, he needed _her_.

Quickly, he got up from his bed, not bothering to put on a coat to protect himself against the freezing winter air, and hurried downstairs. He vaguely noticed that Toby and Arnie were sleeping, each on their 'own' couch, but the image left his mind before he had even registered it – there were more important things on his mind; things that involved the woman who possessed the kindness to offer the boys those couches near the still burning fire in the first place.

He quietly knocked on Mrs. Lovett's bedroom door. She didn't react and he was afraid that she refused to let him in, but only then he realized that she was probably sleeping like most people do at that time. As he presumed this was the reason for the lack of reaction, he knocked again, a bit louder.

"What?" a sleepy voice asked, making it perfectly clear that he had interrupted her sleep. "Who is it?"

"It's me," he said to the dark wood of the door, knowing that she would recognize his voice.

"Come in," she said, after a few moments.

He opened the door, but instead of letting himself in immediately, he lingered on the threshold for a moment, suddenly not sure so sure anymore why he had come down to see his landlady.

The baker stood up from the bed and approached him carefully.

"Mr. T?"

He looked nervously at the woman as the emotions that had seemed so strong and clear when he had been alone in his own room faded in a few seconds of confusion.

"May I spend the night in your room?" he found himself asking after a rather long silence of an uncomfortable nature.

"To sleep, you mean?" she replied, staring into his eyes as if she could thus find an answer to her question.

"I don't sleep," he said, staring at her. "I just want to rest and feel a bit warmer."

"Alright," she said, a sudden smile on her face as she took his arm and guided him towards her bed.

"But nothing more," Sweeney said quickly as he realized that the woman might think there was a completely different reason for his rather unusual request.

_He _certainly thought of those things at that moment, but he forced those desires out of his head because he would need to focus to the extreme if he wanted to get rid of the Judge properly for once and for all. And in order to focus the next day, he had to rest now, and not allow himself to drown in the human being that was Nellie Lovett.

Mrs. Lovett pushed the blankets aside so he could easily get in the bed. The barber took off his shoes and vest, shivering with cold as he did so, and then sat down eagerly on the mattress. The baker lay down again, but in the other half of the bed, to give Mr. Todd more space. Sweeney savored in the heavenly warmth that the woman's body had created on the side of the bed where he was now.

There was a distance between their two tired bodies, and Sweeney wasn't sure this was a good thing or not. He did find out pretty soon that he wasn't able to sleep though, and from her breathing, it was easy to tell that Mrs. Lovett couldn't either.

"The Judge is coming tomorrow," Sweeney whispered, minutes later.

"I know," she replied softly.

"How?" he asked, bewildered.

"Arnie told me, after I asked him to," she replied. "Please don't be angry with him."

"I'm not; you have the right to know."

"What are you going to the Judge?"

"I'll make him regret it," Sweeney said, "I want to hurt him as much as he hurt me. More, if possible. I have to _feel _it, so I can remember it for the rest of my days."

For a few moments neither of them said a word, but the silence wasn't one of an uncomfortable kind this time.

"Nellie?" the barber asked after a while, so softly that the addressed person hardly heard him.

"Yes?"

"I'm scared."

In the darkness of the bedroom Sweeney turned to the baker and after those words, the hot tears that he had managed to hold back for such a long time, fell at last.

Mrs. Lovett was bewildered to see the barber in this state, especially because he allowed himself to be vulnerable when she was around, but she recovered from the initial shock soon and moved her arms around Mr. Todd, gently pulling him closer to her. As the barber sobbed quietly, she caressed his back gently and simply let him cry, not knowing how else she could possibly help him at that very moment.

"Please," he muttered into the fabric of her nightgown, "hold me."

Not needing any more encouragement, she moved closer to him until his head was resting on her chest and her arms were wrapped around him tightly. She didn't object when his hands found their way underneath her gown and kneaded her skin gently, as if to make sure that this was all real, not another dream or fantasy.

Contently, the barber made himself more comfortable and enjoyed the fact that his body and mind finally found the peace it needed.

"Good night," he managed to mutter before he fell asleep.

"Good night Mr. T," she whispered, smiling at his words.

Mrs. Lovett didn't sleep for several more hours, but she didn't mind at all. Sweeney Todd was sleeping peacefully and, if everything would go well, he would be able to sleep like this in her arms for the rest for their lives. And that was all what mattered to her.


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

When Mrs. Lovett woke up the next morning, her arms were wrapped around Mr. Todd. For a few moments, she couldn't believe it was real, but then she remembered what had happened the previous night. She knew the barber hardly slept, so it was extraordinary that he was lying there so peacefully now.

Gently, she stroked his hair, wishing this moment wouldn't end for a long time. He cuddled against her and, emboldened by this, the baker moved her hand down to caress Sweeney's back. He sighed in contentment as he did so and held her tighter, as if she was the last thing he was holding onto.

Mrs. Lovett knew very well that this wasn't the right time, but she simply couldn't resist. Her hand moved downwards to lift the hem of his shirt so her fingers could find their way to his skin. She gently stroked his sides and lower back, causing her to sigh happily now. How long she had craved to do this, and how wonderful it was that it was actually happening now. She still felt as if this all was a dream that could end at any second, but maybe it was _because _of this that she could enjoy those fragile moments so much.

Although Sweeney was still sleeping, he did react to her gentle caresses. He moved himself even closer to her and for a few seconds it seemed to her as if he was going to kiss her, even now that he was sleeping (or pretended to do so), but then he simply wrapped an arm around her.

He muttered something into the fabric of her nightgown; something that sounded like a name. Knowing that their current situation probably reminded him of Lucy and that he was subconsciously thinking about the yellow haired woman right now, Mrs. Lovett tried just to ignore the sound and not let the moment be ruined.

Mr. Todd kept repeating the name, and every time he mumbled it, he seemed to do it a bit louder. Only because of this the baker heard that he wasn't saying the name of Lucy, but that it was her own name that found its way onto his lips again and again.

Her heart filled with so much joy and happiness because he was thinking of _her_, even in his sleep, that her body seemed to be to small to contain all those wonderful feelings.

For a few more minutes she enjoyed the barber's close presence, but the blissful moment couldn't last forever. Knowing that he would never forgive her if she'd let him sleep now, she gently woke him.

He objected to his awakening by holding her tighter, but no matter how tempting it was just to let him touch her like that, she shook his shoulder again.

"Mr. T, you have to get up," she whispered in his ear. How lovely it was to do that, just to be able to hold him and talk to him this way...

"I don't want to get up," he mumbled, still half asleep. "I want to stay here with you."

"I want that too," she said, caressing the white streak in his hair, "but the Judge is coming to your shop this afternoon and you have to get ready."

His body, which had been so relaxed only seconds before, tensed as her words dawned on him and he remembered what the Judge's servant had told him the previous day.

But instead of jumping out of the bed and hurrying back to his room, like she had expected him to do, Sweeney kept holding her.

"I'm nervous," he said, his voice trembling. "What if something goes wrong? What if he can escape? What if..."

"You won't fail Mr. T," she interrupted, trying to reassure him. Of course, she couldn't be totally sure that he wouldn't fail – no one could – but that would obviously be the wrong thing to say. "You have practised quite a lot, don't you think? And neither of those men escaped, so why should the Judge? He doesn't suspect anything, just like those other men didn't. Just make sure you wait until he is totally relaxed before you do anything, so he doesn't have the chance to fight you before it's too late."

The barber nodded slowly before he reached for the baker one more time.

"Thank you," he whispered, kissing her forehead lightly, "for everything."

Then he moved to the edge of the bed and put on his vest and shoes again. Without saying one more word, he left the room.

Mrs. Lovett didn't blame him. She understood now what was going on behind the blank expression of his face because he had shared his fears with her and she knew this was something he just _had _to do.

Slowly she got out of bed too and dressed herself, before going to her parlor to wake up Toby and Arnie and prepare breakfast. When the three of them had eaten themselves, Arnie brought Mr. Todd his breakfast and after that, Mrs. Lovett told him to keep working in the pie shop for the rest of the day; she didn't want the young boy to be in the barber shop when Turpin would arrive after all.  
The baker had never experienced a day that went by so unbelievable slowly. To Mrs. Lovett it seemed that the clock in her pie shop was broken, but after what felt like several years, it was two o'clock, the time at which Judge Turpin was scheduled to arrive.

Nellie was incredibly grateful that it was time now and that everything should be over very soon, for she could almost _feel_ Mr. Todd's nervousness and she had been very distracted all day herself. Toby was suspecting that something was wrong with her because she was making errors in her work all day and spend a lot of time staring out of the window to see if the Judge was there already, just like Sweeney had always done.

A few minutes after two o'clock, the familiar form of the Judge appeared from the crowd and disappeared into Mr. Todd's tonsorial parlor.

Mrs. Lovett knew very well that there was nothing she could do now except for waiting. Killing the time by working and pretending as if nothing was going on was the best way to distract herself, but she had a hard time focusing on anything. Luckily Toby and Arnie were there to correct the things that she messed up. She was grateful to have them, as working was the only thing that prevented her from running up to Sweeney's shop to check on him, but she was too nervous to even properly take an order.

She wished that all the customers would be quiet so she could at least hear what was going on in the room just above he shop, but of course it was a good thing that they made so much noise; without knowing it, all the sound that those greedy men and women produced was more than enough to cover the screams of terror that were doubtlessly coming from the barber shop at that very moment.

Hours passed, but she didn't hear from Mr. Todd, nor was there any sign that the Judge had been able to escape. The only remarkable thing that happened was that the Beadle arrived a little after six o'clock, and disappeared into the barber shop as well.

When she dropped an entire tray with pies, it was clear both to the two young boys and to herself that it was really better if she'd just stop working. Telling the boys not to worry, she retreated to her bedroom. Knowing there was nothing she could do for Mr. Todd at that moment and that he would come to her if _he _was ready for it, she changed into her nightgown and went to bed, hoping that she'd fall asleep soon in spite of the early hour.

But of course this attempt failed, and so she found herself staring at the ceiling for many hours, waiting with incredible impatience for the moment that Sweeney would come to her bedroom, just like he had done the previous night. She was desperate for it all to be over; with her entire being she wanted Sweeney to be free at last - free to spend the rest of his life with her.

But when she fell asleep at last, far after midnight, Sweeney Todd hadn't come yet.


	44. Chapter 44

_I'm very sorry that it took me so long to update this chapter. There are many reasons that I couldn't submit it before but I will not trouble you with them. The most important thing is that I'll do what I can to post the last few chapters of this story soon. _

* * *

Chapter 44

Sweeney had spent many long hours trying to think of a way to punish Judge Turpin for his actions. A lot of options had crossed his mind, but not one had seemed to be suitable. Simply cutting the man's throat wouldn't do; it would be over way too quickly. This was the same reason that stabbing Turpin's throat or chest wouldn't be good enough. It had seemed to Mr. Todd that there was, in fact, not even one way to hurt the Judge the way Turpin had hurt him. Sweeney had even begun to fear that there simply _was _no proper way to kill the man who had destroyed this life.

But this morning, Mr. Todd had thought of something that was hopefully horrible enough to make the Judge pay for his crimes.

Before the first customers arrived that morning, Sweeney had attached ropes to the barber chair. He was sure of one thing, and that was that Turpin would not get away so easily _this_ time.

During the hours he had to wait for the Judge's arrival, Mr. Todd tried to pass the time more quickly by thinking of Lucy while he worked. The memories of his wife, however, made him angrier with Turpin than he already was, and thus only weakened his focus.

Whenever his thoughts drifted back to Mrs. Lovett however, a sudden calmness found its way into his head. He was extremely grateful that she had allowed him to spend the night with her. When she had held him, he had been able to fully relax, something he hadn't experienced for many long years. It had been hard to leave her peace and quietness in the morning. She had showed him that night that everything wasn't over yet. There was hope of a new life, a life with Nellie Lovett. She wasn't his Lucy, but she was the one who had cared for him all this time, the one who understood and supported him, the woman who he had grown to love in a new way.

A few words or one look were enough for both of them to understand each other and there was something between them that could be not denied. Sweeney had tried to do so for months, but in the end he had accepted that he was falling in love with the baker and he had come back to her, not wanting to ever leave her again.

But first, he had to leave the past behind and in order to do so, there were two last men he had to kill.

It seemed to take weeks before it was finally two o'clock, the time at which the Judge was scheduled to arrive in his shop, and from then on it took even longer before Turpin arrived at last, fifteen minutes late.

"Good afternoon," the Judge greeted Sweeney smoothly upon entering the barbershop. "Apologies for my lateness, but I had _business_ to take care of."

Mr. Todd didn't like the way Turpin stressed the word business at all; the older man made it sound like it had to do nothing with real business and more with helpless women.

"Good afternoon, my lord," Sweeney replied, feigning politeness while he discreetly closed the door behind the Judge's back.

"I like what you have done with this place," Turpin said while he looked around in approval. "I presume Mrs. Lovett helped you with this?"

"No, she did not," Sweeney replied truthfully, guiding Turpin to the barber chair.

The Judge snorted in disbelief at the barber's words.

"It's not a crime to admit that you are having an affair with her; everyone is aware of it. Mrs. Lovett is a pretty woman indeed, but she used to be more beautiful. I fancied her, quite some time ago, but at about the same time my eyes fell on a woman more beautiful. Lucy Barker her name was. I don't think you have known her sir, this was more than a decade before you opened your establishment in the same room she used to live in."

Sweeney's heart was beating so rapidly in anger that he was afraid that the Judge would notice this, but the older man just continued talking, having no idea who exactly he was sharing information with.

"She is gone now, unfortunately," Turpin added nonchalantly, as if he was talking about the weather.

It was awfully hard to remain calm at the Judge's words, but Sweeney simply had to control himself for a few more moments. If he would ruin things now, he'd never had a chance again to revenge the fate of his wife and daughter and he'd probably be executed very soon.

Taking a deep breath, the barber pretended to busy with his work, but instead he checked if the ropes that were attached to the barber chair were still where they were supposed to be. They were, right next to the Judge's ankles and wrists.

Turpin was humming something that sounded an awful lot like 'pretty women' and once again Mr. Todd had to suppress the urge just to kill that throat so he'd never have to hear that terrible song again.

But that would be a too gentle way to end the Judge's life and once more Sweeney forced himself to remain calm until the right moment was there.

"I'm sorry sir," the barber said, "it seems that I have to sharpen the razor first. I didn't have the chance to do that earlier."

"Don't worry, good man," Turpin said. "Did you see Mrs. Lovett this morning, in that low dress she is wearing? It was quite a sight. I can spend a while entertaining myself with the thought, so take your time."

The Judge relaxed in the barber chair and closed his eyes, humming once again that too familiar song.

Sweeney circled around the barber chair, his blood boiling with anger. A red veil clouded his sight but with all his strength, he managed to stay calm, forcing himself to recall the peace that Mrs. Lovett's soft hands and kind words had given him that night.

The Judge continued humming, lost in thoughts of which Sweeney was very glad that he could not see, and apparently completely unaware of the things that happened around him.

The barber kneeled down and as carefully as he could, he tied one of the ropes that were attached to the barber chair around Turpin's ankle. Mr. Todd feared that the Judge noticed this, but the lack of reaction from the other man proved the contrary.

Sweeney interpreted this as a good sign and continued by placing another rope loosely around the Judge's ankle.

When those two were in place and Turpin still didn't react at all, the barber pulled at the ropes powerfully, tightening the existing knots to the extend of being impossible to remove.

As he felt his ankles being forced against the wood of the chair, Turpin's eyes flew open in panic. But before the older man even realized what was happening, Sweeney had captured his right arm and tied that to the chair as well.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Turpin yelled, but Sweeney didn't answer. The dark gaze that flashed over his face was the only sign that he had actually heard that the Judge was screaming at him.

Turpin tried to resist, attempting to break himself free, but the ropes were tied too well and the man who had attached them was too determined.

Soon, the Judge's left wrist was captured as well and there he was, one of the most powerful men in London, helplessly bound to a simple barber chair.

Without saying a word, Sweeney walked around the Judge, glaring at the man who was screaming at him, either threatening to have him killed or begging to be freed. But in spite of his fear and rage, the gray-haired man failed to _think_ and understand why he was treated this way, and whom the man was that he was dealing with.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the sight of the helpless man, knowing that he was going to complete his revenge very, very soon, Sweeney stood still right in front of Turpin and reached for the rope around his wrist, razor in his hand, pretending to cut the restraining object.

But instead of freeing the man who had destroyed his life, the cold metal of the blade pierced the man's skin.

If it weren't for the fact that Sweeney had lost all capability to see the funny side of things, he would've laughed at the expression on the Judge's face, going from initial relief to absolute horror as he realized that he wasn't going to be freed, but apparently going to be tortured instead. The best thing however, was that only Mr. Todd knew that he hadn't even started yet.

The razor was pushed further into the Judge's wrist, causing more skin to break and more blood to start flowing leisurely away down the barber chair.

Turpin screamed in utter horror, his threats and begging forgotten now that it began to dawn on him, bit by horrible bit, that he was not going to survive this. But still, he thought that he was dealing with a madman and still didn't see that there was nothing crazy about this, that all the pain and the blood and the suffering had a purpose.

But Sweeney was hardly aware of the screams of the Judge. Instead, he focused on the blade of the razor and how it cut through the skin of the other man so easily, his eyes glued to the droplets of blood that fell downwards.

After a few minutes and several cuts later, both deep and relatively small ones, when the Judge's terror had transformed into a state of total human breakdown, Mr. Todd started to talk.

In retrospect, Sweeney couldn't remember what he exactly said. But he did know that he began speaking about a barber and his wife. He remembered the panic in the Judge's eyes when Turpin realized at last whom he was dealing with, and how he circled the older man once more.

The Judge was silent, having stopped even bothering to scream a long time ago, and only the weakest whimpers of fear escaping from his lips. As the man remained quiet mostly, only the horror and disbelief in his eyes showing that he was very much aware of what was happening, Sweeney continued talking. He spoke of Johanna, of Lucy, of Benjamin. And when time elapsed, he talked about Mrs. Lovett, about himself.

When Mr. Todd was done talking, there were several liters of blood on the wooden floor and Judge Turpin was dead at last.


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

The following morning, Mrs. Lovett still hadn't heard anything from Sweeney Todd. She couldn't wait any longer; half a day had passed after all since the Judge and the Beadle had disappeared into the barbershop. She knew that he probably didn't want her to interfere with whatever he was doing upstairs, but she simply _had_ to know what was going on in the room above her own.

Straightening the working clothes she was still wearing, she left her bedroom and headed for the barbershop. For the first time since his arrival in London the door to the room was locked, but Mrs. Lovett opened it by using her own key of the building.

After she entered the room, she immediately closed the door again to prevent people in the street from accidentally seeing things they should not. It was still early in the morning and since there was no source of light in the room, everything was covered in darkness. Mrs. Lovett now wished that she had taken an oil lamp with her, but she didn't want to go back.

It took her eyes a few seconds to adapt to the darkness of the room, and then she could vaguely see some objects. There seemed to be a body in the barber chair, but she couldn't see whether it was Sweeney Todd's or someone else's.

Wanting to find out, she approached the chair, but while she did so, she almost tripped over something big lying on the floor. Wishing intensely that it was not Sweeney's body, she kneeled down and poked it carefully with one finger, her eyes incapable of recognizing the person because of the dark.

Upon touching the corpse, she immediately withdrew her hand again. The second she had touched the body was enough for her to know that this former human being had had a very unpleasant ending, but that it was too fat to be Sweeney, or the Judge, meaning that this had to be the remains of Beadle Bamford.

Again she focused her attention on the person in the barber chair, whose head was bowed forward as if he had fallen asleep accidentally, or he might be praying. And of course it was always a very good possibility that this person wasn't among the living anymore.

Shivering, as this massacre was so much more personal now, Mrs. Lovett silently cursed as her gaze still couldn't penetrate the darkness properly.

"Mistah Todd?"

No one replied, and she continued walking, making sure she didn't slip on the floor. With the lack of light, many would believe that the planks were covered in water, but the baker knew better than that. She recognized the stale smell immediately and during the past few months, she had learned the difference between the texture of water and the thickness of blood very well.

She moved further into the shop, hoping that she would find the barber in good health and that not one drop of all this blood would turn out to be his.

Mrs. Lovett approached the body seated in the chair very carefully, remembering too well the unpleasant things that had happened the last time she had approached Mr. Todd in the darkness of his shop.

When she was standing directly behind the chair, she still couldn't think of a safe way to find out whether this was the sleeping barber or not. But she didn't want to be uncertain any longer and carefully, she poked the person's shoulder.

But the thing that she touched was cold, much colder than Sweeney had ever been. She reached for the man's throat carefully, presuming that this was the Judge then, but to her shock, there was no cut at the spot where she had expected it. But when she moved her hands very carefully over the body, she did feel a lot of blood and things that did feel like cuts. Because of those, she thought it was safe to presume that this was the Judge, and not the barber. It seemed a bit unlikely that Turpin had attacked and mutilated Mr. Todd with his own razor – although, she couldn't be entirely sure.

Quite desperate to know about the barber's fate now, Mrs. Lovett turned around, listening carefully in the hope of hearing any sound that might indicate the barber's presence. Except for the rustle of the fabric of her dress and the loud beating of her own heart, it was completely silent.

And then, after half a minute, a vague sound reached her ears, so soft that it was basically inaudible. She focused to the extreme to hear it again, her head bowed slightly into the direction the sound had come from.

After a few seconds, she heard it again. It sounded like the breathing of a human being.

"Mistah Todd?" the baker whispered, hoping intensely that if there was someone, it would be the barber. Not because she would be in deep, very deep trouble if this was someone else, but because the only thing she would still want if it was the barber who had seemingly bled to death in the barber chair, was ending up just like him.

No answer came, but Mrs. Lovett stepped slowly towards the direction she still heard the sound.

"Mistah Todd?" she repeated, louder this time.

"Nellie?" someone muttered, "is that you?"

"Yes," she replied, the relief in that one word obvious as she recognized Sweeney's voice.

Unable to control herself any longer, she rushed to the corner of the barbershop where his voice had come from and kneeled down next to him, her hands reaching for him eagerly in the dark.

Before she touched him, there was a sudden movement next to her and Sweeney hurled forward, wrapping his arms around her. He moved so fast that she wasn't prepared for the sudden impact and she lost her balance. But before she fell against the wooden floor, she was pulled against Sweeney's chest.

The first thing she sensed was the smell and feeling of blood, that was everywhere on him, but she didn't care. The two arms around her pressed her close to the barber's form and she couldn't get away from him, even if she would've wanted to.

His face was buried in the crook of her neck and his body shook lightly; if she didn't know any better, she'd almost think that he was crying. But perhaps his body language wasn't lying and the dam that had held back his emotions for such a long time had broken at last.

As gently as she could, she returned his embrace, tenderly stroking his back and muttering reassurances in his ear.

"They're dead," Sweeney whispered into her hair, her few minutes later. "It's over."

"Yes love, it's over," Mrs. Lovett said quietly, feeling that it was far from over as long as the blood covered Sweeney was clinging to her, seemingly just as tormented as he had ever been. But at least, he was there, with her, and that was something she couldn't have imagined of until only a few weeks ago.

"You did it, Mistah. T," she murmured, hoping to get a positive reaction out of him, perhaps even cheer him up. "You killed them."

"Yes," was all he said, his tightening arms around her the only indication that he had actually heard what she said.

"I can't really remember Lucy," he said after a few moments, talking as if Mrs. Lovett wasn't there. "She had yellow hair, but I can't remember the exact shade of it, or how it felt between my fingers. When I was at Devil's Island, I woke up often in the night, thinking it was just a dream. But when I called for Lucy, when I reached for her, she was never there."

The baker had no idea why he was saying this, his words making her feel sad because he was once again referring to his wife as if he had already forgotten that there was another woman who longed for him and that he had even returned some of those feelings.

"But when I woke up minutes ago," he continued, his voice even softer than before, "I found that I wasn't alone. You were there."

He pulled her closer to him and then his grip weakened, making it clear to the baker that Sweeney had fallen asleep again. But after what he just had said to her, the compliment and tenderness that was hidden in those words, she couldn't blame him for falling asleep at a moment like this.

Making sure he was comfortable, his head resting on her lap, she could finally relax herself. She didn't dare believe that it was all actually over, that the barber could forget about his past now and move on with her. But the most important barrier between them had vanished at last.

Gently caressing his face, hardly aware of the blood that she felt while doing so, she watched him sleep, hoping that he would wake up again soon.

As the time passed slowly and Mr. Todd continued sleeping, the baker dozed off herself. It didn't matter to her that she was lying on blood covered, wooden planks. All that mattered was Sweeney's reassuring presence right next to her and, if everything went well, he would be at her side for the rest of her life.


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

When Sweeney woke up again, many hours later, he felt heavenly calm and at ease. No memories had haunted him during the night and a strange feeling of satisfaction had found its way into his head.

After only a few moments, he figured out why he felt so strangely relieved: he felt so good because it was all over. And, as he had craved for many months, the horrible feeling of a desperate urge of revenge was gone too. He was empty inside, completely empty – _too _empty; something was missing.

"Nellie?" he shouted, panicking when he found that she wasn't lying right next to him anymore. "Nellie!?"

"I'm here," she replied, quickly moving to him from the part of the room that she had been cleaning.

The barber sat up with difficulty, blinking because of the brightness of the beams of sunlight that reached the room through the curtains. Before he managed to see Mrs. Lovett clearly, she touched his arm in a reassuring way.

"I'm here," she repeated, softer this time.

Like the previous day, he embraced her, feeling an immense gratitude for having this woman at his side. He breathed in her scent eagerly, as if it was easier that way to understand what had all happened the past day and night; as if he would succeed in totally believing that it was all over at last.

It wasn't as dark in the shop as it had been before and only then Sweeney noticed that not just his own clothes and body were covered in blood, but Mrs. Lovett's as well. The Judge's murder had been a relatively clean one, but the way he had killed the Beadle had been the most violent and bloodiest of his 'career'. Apparently, when the barber had held the baker that night, part of the Beadle's blood had found its way from his clothes to her. Usually he considered those rubies to be beautiful, but it was simply a crime to see the Beadle's disgusting blood on his landlady's fair skin.

"You should take a bath," he said quietly. "I'll clean up this mess."

Mrs. Lovett looked as if she was about to disagree, but then she left the room, while casting one more, worried glance at him and making sure not to trip over the remains of the Judge and the Beadle.

When the baker was gone, Sweeney closed his eyes for a second, wondering how it could be that he suddenly felt so lonely, just because Mrs. Lovett wasn't in the same room as he was anymore.

Trying to ignore the feeling of emptiness he experienced, the barber decided to have the room cleaned as soon as he could and to continue the work where Mrs. Lovett just had ended.

He found the remains of the trap door with some difficulty and placed a still blooded razor between the two wood that covered the whole and the actual floor, using the knife as leverage to open the chute now that the handle was gone and hadn't been there for quite some time.

He was about to throw the corpses of Turpin and Bamford into the bake house, only then realizing that Mrs. Lovett was probably in the basement at that very moment to take a bath. He shivered lightly at the thought of having to bath in that horrible stench, but like Mrs. Lovett had explained to him once before, the bake house was the only personal space she owned that was big enough to contain a tub and the oven wasn't only just suitable for baking pies, but for warming water as well.

Not wanting to terrorize the woman by throwing corpses downstairs while she was attempting to clean herself and, hopefully, relax a bit, Sweeney realized he had to wait to get rid of the bodies.

He peeked into the basement and he saw vaguely how Mrs. Lovett was struggling with heavy buckets of water. Not wanting her to go to even more trouble than he had confronted with already, he decided that he should help her fill the tub with warm water.

Luckily there were still some clean clothes on the small table next to his bed. He changed his trousers for a new pair and put on a cloak to hide the bloodstained shirt. It would be better to change the shirt as well, but right now he wanted to go to Mrs. Lovett as soon as possible without being stared at outside; the cloak did a good job hiding the stains, so at the moment he felt that freeing himself from the Beadle's blood was not worth the wait.

Half a minute later, he was in the bake house where he took a heavy, water-filled bucket that Nellie was carrying at that moment.

"Let me do that," he said to her, the corners of his lips shifting lightly upwards to reassure her.

She let go of the metal bucket and he moved a finger into the water. Upon feeling that it was very cold, he placed it next to the burning oven to warm it.

"May I ask what you are doing here?" Mrs. Lovett asked, sounding slightly confused.

"Helping you," he stated matter-of-factly.

"That's very nice of you," she said, smiling.

Sweeney just nodded, while he went to a corner of the bake house to take a the huge wooden tub that Mrs. Lovett stored there if she didn't need it, and carried it to the part of the basement that was the most far away from the sewer and the working table where she had once butchered the bodies of his murdered customers. Although there hadn't been a corpse for months, the smell never seemed to vanish completely. The smell of the sewer was less disgusting, but it was far from pleasant either. At the spot that he had found, however, the air seemed to be a bit fresher, probably because it was close to the heavy doors that, once open, would allow some relatively clean air to reach the basement.

"Do you feel any better now that they are dead?" the baker asked quietly. She didn't need to specify who 'they' were; it was clear whom she meant.

"I think so," Sweeney said, an empty bucket falling noisily from his suddenly limp hands. "I have done everything that could be done to punish those two for the crimes they committed. I did all that I should've done to avenge my Lucy. I can't really remember what the Judge and the Beadle said or did last night, but knowing that they are dead now and suffered before their lives ended at last… I think that it is enough."

"I hope it is," she said carefully.

"Why do you hope so?" he asked. "They didn't ruin your life, only made it better if I think of all those hungry customers that make you rich day after day."

He wasn't angry, just curious. And luckily, the baker understood this.

"Because you don't deserve what the years have done to you. You deserve to be happy and I want you to be."

He stared at her, wondering if this was more than a polite remark and there was a second, deeper meaning behind her words. She looked back at him, clearly uncomfortable, making it obvious to him that there _was _another meaning behind her words.

"I think the water is warm enough now," Sweeney said while he pointed at the buckets next to the oven, not knowing what else to say.

She nodded and after a few moments of silence, she moved towards the oven and lifted a bucket of now hot water to empty it in the tub. Sweeney took the second one and they continued emptying the numerous buckets until the tub was almost filled completely.

"I hope this will do," Mrs. Lovett said as she stared at a tiny bit of soap that she had apparently taken before he arrived in the bake house.

"Shall I get some more?" Sweeney asked, wondering if he wasn't going too far in being nice to her, but not caring since it felt right to be helpful to her for once.

"That would be very nice of you," she said, not sure whether he had actually offered her to bring her some soap. "It's in the cupboard in my bedroom."

Sweeney left the bake house quickly, not wanting Mrs. Lovett to have to wait any longer.

It was strange to be in her bedroom again. The place brought back vague memories to him, flashes of him watching over her to make sure that she'd rest; and less vague ones, images of his hands kneading her back, almost kissing her …

Forcing himself not to think of _that_, he quickly headed for the cupboard in a corner of the room and, when he had found what he was looking for, went back to the bake house, hoping that the water wouldn't be cooling already, for he wanted Mrs. Lovett to have a nice, warm bath. She deserved it.

However, when he returned in the basement, the new bar of soap in his hand, the baker turned out to be in the bath already, her clothes in a chaotic pile on the floor. Her eyes seemed to be closed and Mr. Todd could even her hear sighing contently.

Sweeney, feeling rather embarrassed to have run into the woman at that particular moment, coughed to let her know that he was there. What he wanted to do if she'd see him he did not know, and part of him was glad that she didn't look up.

Realizing that she would probably never know about his very ill timed presence if he'd keep quiet, he decided just to place the soap in the bake house and then go back to the barber shop to start the doubtlessly long process of cleaning the room.

But leaving the soap where he was standing at that very moment wouldn't be of any use, since it was far out of her reach. If he wanted to deliver the small object like he had actually offered himself, he'd have to place it somewhere she could actually get it without much trouble.

Hoping that she would open her eyes only when he was gone, he quietly moved towards the tub in which his landlady was currently taking a bath. The thought that she was more exposed and touchable than she had ever been in his presence before crossed his mind but again, he chose to ignore it – or tried to, at least.

Those very improper thoughts turned out to be completely impossible to shut out as he stepped closer to the tub. His only intention was to lay the soap on the floor next to the tub, but as he came closer he didn't fail to notice that the water that was supposed to hide Mrs. Lovett's body from his eyes was still very clear because it wasn't mixed with soap yet.

Hands trembling, he placed the soap on the floor, both eager and reluctant to leave the basement and the woman who was currently bathing there as soon as he could. His eyes were glued to Mrs. Lovett's body, even though he tried to look away.

"Mr. T?" she asked, her eyes still closed.

He stood dead in his tracks, his mind racing to find the best way to deal with this situation. He didn't want her to know that he had been staring at her; he didn't want her to know he was there in the first place because he was not supposed to be there, even though it was not really his fault. But she seemed to have sensed his presence anyway, so there was no use to pretend he was not there.

"Yes?" he replied, trying to sound nonchalant and as if he was not bewitched in a way he was not supposed to be by the woman talking to him.

"I imagine that the blood will be hard to get out of my hair," she said, vaguely pointing at the messy curls on her head, causing water from the bath to splash on the floor, "and I wondered…"

"What?" Sweeney asked, his voice not as firm as he wanted it to be.

"Could you wash my hair for me? Please?"

Sweeney's eyes widened as he realized what Mrs. Lovett was suggesting exactly.

"I'm sorry Mr. T," she said quickly when he didn't answer. "I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's alright," his treacherous tongue and lips said hastily. "I'll help you."

* * *

_The ending is very sudden, I know, but this last chapter turned out to be very long and that's why I split the chapter at this point. I'll try to post the second part and the epilogue within two weeks. When this story is completed, I'll begin posting **Miracles**, my next Sweenett multi chapter. I wanted to do so earlier, but decided to finish this one first before I would end up posting two but updating no stories once again ;)_


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Mrs. Lovett glared at him, an ambiguous look in her eyes, before taking a deep breath and moving her entire head beneath the surface of the water, thus soaking her hair completely within seconds. When she came up again, careful not to show too much or herself to Mr. Todd because she didn't want to scare him away, she gestured to the bar of soap that the barber was still holding in his temporarily limp hands.

Now it was his turn to take a deep breath and after mentally ordering himself to stay calm, he moved his hands into the water, careful not to look at the baker, and rubbed the bar of soap between his hands.

He kneeled down behind Mrs. Lovett and efficiently worked the soap into her hair. He tried to ignore the thought that he was actually touching her now for the first time in weeks, that he had desired to do something like this for so long.

And yet, there was this other voice in his head, telling him not to enjoy this because it simply did not matter. He had killed the Judge and the Beadle, he had done what he could to revenge his Lucy, he should think about _her_, and not of Nellie Lovett, the woman that was sighing in contentment because he was just washing her hair.

Well, 'just' washing… his movements had become less efficient, slower, as if he was savoring the feeling of her curls between his fingertips. The blood was long gone, but yet, he kept touching her gently, his fingers not only reaching for her hair and scalp, but neck and shoulders as well.

Mrs. Lovett leaned back against the edge of the tub, just to be able to be nearer to the man who made her feel as if she was worth caring for, as if she was beautiful and special, as if she was _loved_. But she was no fool; she knew this wouldn't last long. It was the night that his demonic scheme was completed at last and his vengeance was done after all these months. He would probably blame her, perhaps even punish her, for 'distracting' him.

And perhaps, this accusation wouldn't be completely unfair for once. She had taken such a small piece of soap on purpose after all, hoping that he would come after her, and so he had. Because he had helped her, she knew that he was in one of his rare but so enjoyably helpful moods, and she had sensed that if she'd ask him to get her more soap, he'd do it. When he had gone away, she had undressed as quickly as she could, simply tearing the clothes from her body as the buttons and laces weren't undone fast enough for her liking.

She had just wanted to be sure that she was in the tub when he'd come back, so he could _see _her, really see her, and it would hopefully not seem as if she had planned it all along.

He didn't seem to notice that all this was planned and thus far, the plan seemed to be working. Mr. Todd wasn't the one who was fooled easily, but lately, he seemed to be distracted when she was around. Now she could only hope that she could have a few moments with him alone, moments of the kind she had dreamed of for so long, so she would have something to remember when he would leave her forever – in spite of his drastically changed opinion of her, she was rather sure this moment would come soon.

"And now?" he asked, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

The words interrupted her thought and brought her back to the present that was, for once, not so bad after all. She blinked, realizing her hair was clean now, except for the soap that was still in it.

"You could get a bucket of water to get the water out?" she suggested, wondering how far his current devotion to her would go, "it doesn't have to be warm, just…"

"No, I'll warm it for you," Sweeney said, "I don't want you to… freeze."

She shivered when she felt his breath against her wet neck, but before he could notice, Sweeney was gone already to warm more water.

When he had pumped more water and had placed the bucket containing it next to the oven, he waited until the water was warm enough again. Every second he spent watching his landlady, savoring the sight right in front of him. If only this could last longer, if there would be more moments like this, much more, moments of nothing but joy that could make him forget about all the misery from the past for a while.

When the water was warm enough for his liking, he picked up the bucket and slowly emptied it above her head, running his hands through her hair once more to wash out the remains of the soap.

A few moments later this was done. But instead of leaving her, he threw the bucket aside impatiently and moved back to sit behind Nellie Lovett. He didn't know why exactly, but it was just something that he felt he _needed _to do.

He kneeled down on the place where he had been before and once again, his fingers reached for her. He couldn't pretend now to be washing her hair since both he and she knew it was clean already, but it didn't seem to matter. Gently, his fingertips traced the skin of her shoulders, craving to touch her now but not sure she would allow him to.

Except for a few gasps for air when he caressed her shoulders in a particularly tender way, she didn't react and, encouraged by this, he continued stroking her shoulders and back with his fingers, every once in a while caressing the long tresses of her wet hair as well. But it wasn't enough yet and now that he sensed she enjoyed the caresses just as much as he did, he leaned forward to kiss her neck softly.

She sighed his name as he did so and moved her head to the left, inviting him to explore more of her. Her fingers dug in the edges of the tub and for some reason, he felt pride for making the strong woman lose control like this.

When he noticed how eagerly Mrs. Lovett reacted to his touch, he moved his arms in the water that was mixed with blood and the remains of soap now, not caring that the sleeves of his shirt became wet and heavy because of this.

Sweeney's arms encircled the woman's waist and he pulled her closer to him, resting his head on her shoulder and kissing her neck as he did so. The baker's body tensed and he quickly moved away from her, fearing that he had gone too far, only then noticing that her back was pressed uncomfortably against the edge of the tub.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, "I shouldn't have…"

"It's quite alright," Mrs. Lovett said, smiling as if she was amused by his concern. "There just should be something between me and the wood to make all this some more… comfortable."

He looked at her, wondering why she stressed the word 'comfortable' the way she did.

"I think you need a bath too," she added, smiling mischievously now.

"I think you're right," Sweeney replied. "I'll take a bath when you are done here."

"Actually, I think you should do so right _now._"

Mesmerized by the unexpected request, the barber stared at her, finding himself incapable to react for a moment. Mrs. Lovett took her chance and, turning around to him, began unbuttoning his shirt with slippery hands.

"Or don't you want to?"

Her movements faltered, feeling suddenly insecure at his lack of reaction.

"I do," he managed to say, inwardly fighting the voice that said otherwise. At this moment, after the Judge and the Beadle were dead at last, he should reflect on the past; he should remember Lucy and think of his daughter. What he should _not _do was take a _bath_ with Nellie Lovett.

But as he watched her sitting there right in front of him, he knew that the time that Lucy had been his reason to live was over now and that he had promised both himself and Mrs. Lovett that he would try to _live _again once his revenge was completed.

The baker had turned her face away from him and even without looking at her, he could tell exactly how her eyes were closed in disappointment because of his hesitance.

Taking a deep breath, he hastily removed his clothes and approached her again, feeling more vulnerable, and not only because of his unclothed appearance.

Sensing his presence, she moved forwards, making room for him right behind her, but refusing to look around as if he would disappear the moment she set eyes on him.

He slowly sat down in the tub, the warm water surrounding him like the blankets Nellie Lovett had always been so kind to provide him with. For a moment, he wasn't sure what to do, but when he saw the woman's pale back so close to him, he simply continued where he had stopped a minute before.

He softly caressed her back with his fingers, his mouth exploring her neck again. Mrs. Lovett shivered as he did so, and Sweeney didn't know whether he or the chilliness of the bake house was responsible for this. Either way, he didn't want her to be cold – not now, not ever.

He scooped water from the tub and gently splashed it over her body, so it could warm the skin that wasn't surrounded by water yet. The baker sighed in complete contentment and leaned back against him.

As she was basically lying in his arms already, he encircled her waist again and pulled her against his chest.

Sweeney sighed as well when he felt his landlady's body against his own. She cuddled against him and ran her hand over his arms slowly. He closed his eyes as the past seemed to be fading by the simple gestures and once again he sighed, deeper this time, not remembering a moment he had felt so much at ease.

He returned her affection now, one hand stroking her back again and the other resting on the curve of her hip. The baker's eyes were closing again as she enjoyed the feeling of Sweeney's touch and tried to store every perfect detail of the moment in her memory. She wasn't sure yet how murdering the Judge and the Beadle had affected them and until she found out how she would fit into the life that he had in mind now that his revenge was completed, she treated every second of the time she spend with him as if it could be the last.

"I'm glad," Sweeney said, breaking the long silence, "that I am here with you."

Nellie opened her eyes again, knowing how much it meant that Mr. Todd actually realized that she was with him. She wanted to show him that she was grateful to be so close to him at last, but the moment was so fragile that she didn't dare doing anything, afraid that she would ruin it.

To the barber however, nothing had been as solid as his long forgotten marriage to Lucy as this moment was. His life wasn't over now that he had avenged his wife; in fact, it only seemed to be beginning now. Benjamin Barker's life had definitely ended the moment he had murdered Judge Turpin and Beadle Bamford, but Sweeney Todd's life… Mrs. Lovett, no matter how insignificantly she had seemed until mere months ago, had made it very clear that there could be more than just an endless thirst for vengeance.

The baker had given him a reason to live again and the more he became aware of this, the more he realized that he didn't want to be without her anymore.

"They're gone," Mrs. Lovett whispered, breaking the silence again at last. It was clear to both of them that she wasn't only talking about the Judge and the Beadle, but about Lucy as well. "It's over."

"Yes," he muttered back, tightening his grip around her waist. "It's over."

She turned herself around in his arms to face him, tenderly stroking the side of his face. And as they leant in for the first kiss of their actual life together, they both knew that not only had something ended, but that something new had begun as well.


	48. Chapter 48

Epilogue

The first thing that Mrs. Lovett was aware of when she woke were the gentle lips that were kissing her belly.

"Do you even know how late it is?" she groaned, feeling that the moment that the barber and she had finally fallen asleep the previous night was only minutes ago.

"Seven o'clock," Sweeney smiled teasingly.

"Seven o'clock? We have to get up, _now_!"

"What's the rush, my dear?" the barber asked as he continued kissing the woman's stomach and licked her navel teasingly.

"That's not fair," Nellie sighed, "you _know_ I can't resist that."

"Indeed," Mr. Todd answered, not ceasing the ministrations.

Mrs. Lovett leant back against the pillow, closing her eyes as she surrendered herself to the sensations that Sweeney caused. How incredibly wonderful and unbelievable it was that he touched her like this now so often, that something that had been too good to even dream about, had actually come true.

She whispered his name as she weaved her fingers into his hair, urging him to continue what he was doing. Her body responded eagerly to him, like it always did – she just could never get enough of him. Though it was only several hours ago that they had made love, the baker was aroused once more and, wanting to feel the barber's lips and tongue on other parts of her body, she attempted to guide his head to those places herself.

However, Sweeney didn't move the way she wanted him to and remained focused on her belly.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, opening her eyes again.

"Not at all," he said, smiling mischievously at her, while his hands explored her stomach gently.

"What are you doing?" Nellie asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm checking your figure."

The baker's mouth opened in shock and she stared at the barber in disbelief.

"_What_? Are you… are you saying that I'm…"

"No, you're _not_ fat," Sweeney replied, his grin widening at the misplaced insecurities of the woman.

As she still looked shocked, he grasped her hands and placed them on her stomach, beneath his own hands.

"Nellie," he said, completely serious now. " Did it ever occur to you that you might be pregnant by now?"

The woman's eyes widened at those words and she realized what he actually was talking about. No matter how odd it seemed, she had never thought about it. The past two months had been one explosion of passion and love; it had started that night in the bathtub, when the Judge and the Beadle were killed, and from that moment on, Sweeney and she had been basically glued to each other. That was all so new and exciting that she hadn't even fully realized that their love might lead to something even more beautiful.

In spite of the situation, she couldn't suppress a giggle. Bearing Sweeney's child had been a dream of hers for such a long time and now that the possibility was right in front of her, she hadn't even thought of it.

"What?" Mr. Todd asked, "did I say something wrong?"

"No, not at all," she replied, smiling adoringly to him. " You just keep me busy all night, I didn't even have the chance to think about a pregnancy."

He smiled too, like he had done more than once during the past few weeks, but still Nellie couldn't help but stare at his face and wonder at that wonderful laugh of his.

Recognizing her look, Sweeney covered the woman's body with his own and kissed her gently.

But for once, the baker wasn't totally lost in his kiss, for a little voice kept nagging in the back of her head. The barber and she had never talked about family and having one of their own before; the topic was simply too painful for both of them. But now that they were together for almost two months, the probability of a child was certainly there and thus they had to discuss it, rather at the best moment and Mrs. Lovett felt that that was this one.

"Would you… would you want that?" she asked, breathless, "A child I mean? Our child?"

"There's nothing I want more," he whispered. "Although…" he added, switching back to his former, more playful tone as he eyed the naked baker in his arms, "there's something else I really want."

Their lips met again, and it seemed as if their kiss was different this time; there wasn't only love for each other, but for a possible third person in her womb as well.

"What do you think?" he asked as he trailed kisses over her chest, back to her stomach, "do you feel any difference?"

"No," she said after a few seconds of thought. "Not yet."

A few more kisses, and then Sweeney sat up and reached for their clothes. He stood up from the bed and dressed quickly, pretending not to notice that Nellie was watching him eagerly.

As she didn't seem to plan getting out of bed soon, he offered her his hand to help her get up. It was quite late already and although he enjoyed teasing the baker, he knew very well that they both had a shop that they were responsible for.

He intended to go to his tonsorial parlor, but as he saw how Mrs. Lovett moved out of bed and began to dress herself, he stood still to watch the woman in front of him.

"Did I ever tell you how grateful I am to have you?"

"About a thousand times," she replied happily, as she tugged at the laces of her corset.

Sweeney moved closer to her and helped her tie the strings and get into her dress.

"And did I ever tell you how much I much I like this dress?"

"I didn't count, but it was very often. And did I ever mention that I like this dress very much myself?"

"I can't recall," the barber replied, pretending to think deeply about the question.

"It seems so long ago," Nellie said, referring to the day three months ago that she had found a package with the dress in it in her bedroom, where Mr. Todd had placed it. Now the man himself was stroking the fabric, caressing the baker's back in a way she could've only dreamed of back then.

"Nellie, I've been doing some thinking." From the tone of his voice, she knew immediately that the banter was over. "About us."

"About us?" she echoed sheepishly, a horrible feeling suddenly overwhelming her.

Within seconds, the everlasting fear that Sweeney would fall out of love with her and leave her was on the foreground again.

Sweeney bit his lip and Mrs. Lovett stood perfectly still, expecting those long feared words to come from his lips at last.

The barber himself, too nervous to notice the woman's distress that he caused, reached for a small box on his nightstand. Mrs. Lovett hadn't seen it before, as if the man had hidden it, and although she didn't know what Mr. Todd was up to, she feared that it could be nothing good. The past weeks had just been too wonderful, too heavenly, and she had always known that it probably wouldn't last very long. But now that she was afraid that it would end, she wished that she could only enjoy this paradise on earth just a bit longer, if only for one day.

"Nellie Lovett," Sweeney said, kneeling down in front of her and opening the box to reveal a golden ring, while both his voice and hand were trembling lightly, "will you marry me?"

For a long moment they stared at each other, as if they were both unable to believe that he had just asked her to be his wife, but then Mrs. Lovett broke the silence.

"I… I do," she muttered hoarsely, tears of joy welling in her eyes. "I do, I do, I…"

The rest of her words were unintelligible for at that moment her mouth crashed against Sweeney's, the force of the kiss knocking the two of them over on the bed. Even while this happened, the baker kissed her soon-to-be husband tenderly. But before her kisses became heated once more, he moved away from her slightly.

"That's not all," he said, sitting up while he wrapped his arms around her and looked her in the eyes. "Almost sixteen year ago, everything I loved was taken from me. I never want that to happen again. I'll look after you, I'll protect you with my life, but even now that Turpin is dead… there are so many men like him in this city. I want us and our children to grow old in a peaceful and quiet place. I believe that the seaside might be a proper location for us to live."

"By the sea?" Nellie asked, tears slowly finding their way down her cheeks now.

"Yes," Sweeney said, staring at her, as he didn't understand her reaction immediately. "I thought you wanted to…"

Unable to deal with all the happiness that overwhelmed her in a controlled way any longer, Mrs. Lovett buried her face in the crook of his shoulder and began to sob.

"Did I say something wrong?" the barber asked, not seeing what was wrong but only hoping that it had nothing to do with his proposal. "Don't you want to…"

"Of course I do," Nellie said, smiling in spite of the tears on her cheeks. "That's what I've always wanted."

"But why are you crying then?" Sweeney asked bewildered.

"Because I'm happy, you silly man," the baker replied, looking at him with such a loving glance that the barber's lips quirked upwards too.

When she flung herself in his arms again, he embraced her in that protective and possessive way that she loved so much and all thoughts of impatient customers were forgotten. All that would ever matter to her was this man, the love of her life, who had asked her to be his wife after more than twenty years in which she had longed for him in vain. But now, life was good at last, and it was only getting better.

**The End**

* * *

_Here it is, the very last chapter of this story! I've been writing this for more than a year and it feels really strange now to post the last part._

_I hope you like the epilogue and I want to say 'thank you' once more to everyone who read and reviewed. =D_


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